Air
by Servatia
Summary: Spock is hearing things, Bones can't say no, and they play a hunch. How successful that is on closer inspection remains to be seen, though. I have trouble with categories and rating here. The latter might increase. This will eventually by K/S, so be warned. Set after Generations – no, not kidding.
1. Like You

_((A short A/N before I let you start._

_First things first: I promise solemnly that this isn't going to remain as gloomy as it sets out in this intro. But I will come back to this, so I chose to include it as a first chapter._

_I do not normally write Science Fiction, and I am by no means an expert on the StarTrek universe. I will not look up everything, simply because it's impossible, but my dates are right. I think._

_I set this around 2372 or something, a short time after Generations. Oh and here's something else: I do refer to the movies. Have to. That makes Spock about 130, Bones above 140. 2364 he visited the TNG-Enterprise and was still active, so I assume he clings on to life for a couple more years. Vulcans live longer anyway. The second chapter will give a hint (quite a heavy one, I think) what I'll do with them. Chapter three will give a hint of the hidden framestory. Or I think it will, I haven't yet written beyond chapter 2. But I know where I'm going._

_This is something that has been clamouring to be written for longer than I care to think. So now it finally gets its wish._

_The title itself came to me because air or lack thereof is going to be a recurring theme. That is something I noticed rather than something I planned. But I like it that way and might add some more (so far I have 3 and a half instances, the latter two are more or less the same on a different scale)._

_The chapter heading is an Evanescence song and it fits the mood of the introduction. So be warned._

_As the short synapsis said, this is going to contain slash eventually. Also, like I said, the rating may go up, I don't know that yet._

_Dear. I wanted superscript endnotes (without the actual endnotes) to make this look like an academic text that would contain citations. The formatting here doesn't agree with me on that (and stubbornly refuses to accept the html code), so they ended up in brackets.))_

* * *

_Some will say they do not have emotions. Others will claim they control them. A few will refuse to speak about the subject. The first group are liars, the last afraid. The middle group are the ones capable of facing that they are not, in fact, computers. It is the intention of this essay to make an unbiased observation, with explanations drawn from psychology, a science that has been neglected for too long(13)._

ϡ

Maybe she had been wrong. She didn't feel anything, dragging her dead bondmate from the wreck. She didn't feel anything when the aged Vainal announced her unborn daughter dead. She didn't feel anything, not even physical pain, when she gave birth to a corpse. Or when she realised what hadn't occurred to her before: That her bondmate had died without a chance to pass his katra to someone who could keep it safe. Yes, obviously, she couldn't feel.

ϡ

_From there let us move to an even more delicate subject._

_No. 14 in the questionnaire ("Only for second marriages: Have you asked your parents why they got married? If yes, what was the answer? If no, why not?") will be addressed in this section. Of course, it is futile for a first marriage, which is almost always arranged. For the rest of the survey, the general answer was almost always yes with two exceptions (disregarding the human control group). The reason that was given was always a variation of "it was logical"._

_It can be argued now what that means. It is logical for a male who lost his bondmate to find someone else if he wishes to survive his next Pon Farr (cf. 3.1.1). However, it has been argued(39) that it is also logical if an individual falls in love. Having established that we do have emotions, this is entirely possible._

_[…]_

_Aside from these positive effects, love also has the most negative impact(41). It can breed jealousy, fear, anger, all of which can be very hard to control. The crux of the matter is that these emotions must be controlled if we wish to avoid returning to savagery. In order to achieve that, the focus of the control must be the futile love itself, so as to minimise the exertion necessary for success. Love can destroy, this can be observed in humans without much effort(42). The same, without discipline, is true for us(43)._

ϡ

It had come out of the blue. She had understood that she was alone on a planet full of strangers. Stranded without much hope of being found. A planet that had belonged to the Vainal, had been conquered by rogue humans, and was now controlled by them. And these humans hated everything that was different with fervour. She had, at last, realised that her bondmate was gone, the touch of his mind forever torn from her, his presence ripped out of her at his death.

But none of that mattered. There was a wild animal in her chest. One moment it hadn't been there, then suddenly, it had sprung to life, right where a piece of her was missing, to start eating at her guts. She had fled the Alms where the Vainal rebels ate their meals, locked herself into her room and started screaming. When that hadn't helped, she had begun slamming her fists into the rough wall. Her hands were bloody, fingers broken, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She hated the three Vainal dragging her off to the infirmary. She hated Avrinjù, the High Priestess, who force-fed her something to put her to sleep. But she hated herself most of all.

ϡ

_Recommended Reading: "Hiding a Firestorm – Vulcans and Emotions" written by T'Kray as a thesis for her own major. This little-known essay is not overly popular. I suspect a lobby that has no interest in such a controversial text being read by the majority of psychology students. She is the only listed author, but according to herself another Vulcan student of this university has provided so much input she requested he be listed alongside her. That was vetoed by the Vulcan embassy for unknown reasons. Only the four mandatory copies made of all major theses exist of this essay. T'Kray happened to be a student of this institute, so our library holds one of them. It cannot be borrowed and I ask you to treat it with great care if you read it in the library. It is close to irreplaceable. There are rumours about digital underhand distribution, but I for one never found evidence for that._

_(This paragraph was included in every reading list for master students taking a class of Professor Susan Eeg, Ph.D. of Psychology)_


	2. Saviours

T'Kray felt Charika's eyes on her. She turned her head and offered a reassuring nod. Words were unnecessary and dangerous. He darted past her while she stood guard for him, letting him do whatever needed doing to get rid of the bug they had placed in the system previously. No evidence. Nothing indicating anyone had messed with the colony's computers.

It was, she knew, their only hope. Security would be heightened within the next few days. They had found that information in the database. If no-one had heard their signal now, no one would. The Vainal would die, T'Kray would have to remain hidden from the human population. Walking up to them proudly and being executed for conspiracy was probably the better option. They would torture her, but she wasn't going to endure that. Not a pleasant thought, but realistically, that was what would happen.

Charika headed past her, out into the corridor, and she hurried after him. They had to get out into the city. Once there, they were safe enough.

They reached the freight station unchallenged, and T'Kray ventured to talk. 'Did it work as it should?'

'Well, I removed the process that sent our distress signal and fed information back to us, and I removed what evidence I could. But someone with enough knowledge and a reason to look for something like this will find traces.' He took a deep breath. 'I am certain they will. I think that's why they want to increase security.' T'Kray nodded and Charika grinned at her. 'Good thing they cannot read the message.' That at least was almost certain. She very much doubted anyone spoke her own tongue or was able to work out what her message meant. To them it was gibberish. A ship would at least be able to translate.

'How much time, Charika? Any idea?'

'I found something. They want to run tests in two months. They expect that they'll need some time before they have all the results they need, probably six months. Then they will start.'

'Less than three quarters of a year before the Vainal die, in other words.' Charika smiled bitterly.

'Not all.' T'Kray frowned.

'Indeed.' She'd seen the posters, too, addressing the Vainal in Standard and in their own language, offering shelter, food, and work. In other words, slavery. Their other option was to die, and they all knew it. Of course, there was the rebellion, but a campaign like this might make some of the conspirators wonder if it wasn't safer to sell themselves into the hands of their oppressors. Charika wasn't anywhere near as confident as he had been a while before, either.

'T'Kray, will we manage?' What he needed was for her to say yes. He needed her to tell him that all would turn out all right. But this was something she couldn't offer. She looked at him, firmly.

'I don't know. Who am I kidding, you know our chances are slim. The Vainal don't understand technology all that well, so the amount of people that can effectively plan how to defend ourselves is very limited. We are prepared to survive for a while, but eventually, we will very simply run out of oxygen. Our hatches will buy us two days at best. That just might be enough if help is already here and working to sabotage the humans. But if no one hears us now …'

'We die.' T'Kray nodded. 'I'll sooner take my own life than be tortured to death.'

'That is probably wise, Charika.' She indicated a panel in the wall of the small shelter. 'Go back, tell Avrinjù that our work is done for the moment. I will remain in the city and wait. If anyone comes to our help, it will be within its borders. How long before the shield is back up?'

'Three hours.'

'Good. Oh, and please look in on my patient. The one who isn't talking. If anything has changed, signal me. And don't tell him anything. And … just in case the tightened security allows it, calculate the next opportunity for a distress call.'

Something else that worried her. A patrol had found the man on the path into a vineyard. They stored all their goods in the abandoned cellars, and an unknown human there was bad news. He didn't look like a spy – an elderly man, none too slender – but they couldn't be careful enough. His condition was worrying her, too. He had been unconscious when they found him, three weeks ago. He'd had spells where he was obviously awake, but in a state similar to a coma vigil. They kept him alive because T'Kray refused to let him die in case he was innocent, but she didn't have a medic here who could help, and she didn't dare to look into his mind. She had never done it to a human – or a Vainal for that matter – and refused to risk her sanity. Like all the other problems she faced on this planet, this one didn't seem to be solvable.

ϡ

Three hours. Three hours in which help might have arrived. And now the last five minutes were upon her. Anyone arriving later than that would crash and very likely die like the rest of the shuttle that had brought her here all that time ago. A lifetime for a human. Sheer luck had let her fall into the hands of the rebellion rather than the conquerors.

She looked at her hands, smooth and without the wrinkles that had graced them until a year ago. The ritual was said to be magical, and the Vainal firmly believed that. She had worked out that the so-called magic were in truth bacteria that had the same effect on all humanoids – at least those she'd had a chance to witness go through the ritual. She hadn't wanted it for herself, but according to the rules there had to be three people of the same species to be taken through it together, and in the eyes of the Vainal she was human. Only three other humans were in the rebellion, one of them Charika, who was way too young. The effect was painful, at least in the first night after its completion, but effective: An age regression started, monitored by the High Priestess, and was aborted with a substance that quickly stopped the process – by killing the previously ingested bacteria. There was no logical reason why it couldn't be done on one single being, but the entire ritual was lodged deeply into the religion of the Vainal. Only once per person, only to preserve innocent life in danger, only in groups of three. And there were many other factors T'Kray didn't even know.

She looked at the relocator on her wrist, a device that served as a chronometer among other uses, even though she knew the time was up. Hoping sincerely anyone with a wish to help would scan for a shield before attempting to beam to the surface or use a shuttle, she started to head back to the rail where she had left Charika.

A sound between the hissing of electricity and a raging fire came from above, low at first, than increasing in volume until it reached a painful level. It ended suddenly and was followed by a flare of light, a beacon in the sky only a few alleys ahead of her. Her instincts screamed to run and hide, but T'Kray shook them off. It could only mean one thing: Someone had come, had probably found no shield and waited just that much too long before transporting someone down. Whoever was here was very likely dead, and if she just left, it wouldn't make a difference.

But there was she. She had survived. The shield was obviously not very strong and could be penetrated. Someone might be alive and need help. She couldn't turn her back on that. Another flare, slower than the first, cut through the evening, as if to make sure someone would see.

She was not, T'Kray told herself, going to sacrifice herself. Too much depended on her. If she could help, she would. If a patrol arrived before her, she would remain well out of sight. Even though she had a general idea where who- or whatever it was had crashed, she couldn't predict the precise location, and a search without anything to go by might take more time than she had.

'No!' a shout rent the air. 'No, you bastard, you can't do this to me. You can't just lose your wits, drag me into your madness, and then die on me!' T'Kray hurried towards where she heard the voice from. It was very unlikely that this was one of the inhabitants of the city. No-one in their right mind would risk the attention of a patrol.

She found them faster than she had anticipated. Rounding a corner, T'Kray skidded to a halt. Before her, two men were on the ground, one lying on his back, the other kneeling by his side and administering CPR. She shook her head at the position of his hands. 'Step back, this isn't going to help that way.' The man turned his head for less than a second. Intelligent, bright blue eyes in an ancient face took her in – shaggy-looking and covered in dust, a shock of dark red hair falling into her face and obscuring everything down to her nose – and dismissed her the same moment. He turned back towards the person on the floor, carefully tilted his head back and covered his mouth with his own before he answered.

'You want to be helpful, call an emergency help of some description. Now leave me alone, I know better than you.' She stepped closer and froze when she got a good look at the face of the man on the floor. She had thought the location where the pressure was applied was off, but given the patient, it wasn't. This old man was reviving a Vulcan, and he was doing it right.

'Oh,' she made. The rescuer interrupted his administration, placing two trembling fingers on the Vulcan's carotid. His lower lip quavered and tears broke from his eyes. He wiped them off with an impatient gesture and held the shaking hand just over his patient's face and nose.

'God, come on. It's not that hard now. Wake up, man.'

'Breathing?' T'Kray asked, and the old man nodded. He rubbed his knuckles over his chest with an expression so desperate it was clear the unconscious Vulcan was a friend to him. T'Kray took a step backwards and out of flailing range.

'Get out of his way when he comes round if you don't want to get hit. His first reaction might be violent.' He stared up at her.

'Like I care right now. Long as he can hit me, he's all right.' The eyes of the Vulcan flew open and he stared at them both. 'You scared me. Know where we are?' The other didn't move, except for his eyes darting between her and his rescuer, where they finally locked. 'Take your time.' T'Kray cleared her throat.

'Actually, we should leave. Fast.' The old man glared at her as if she was out of her mind.

'Look, I don't know if you're getting this, young lady, but he very nearly died here. He'll need a moment …'

'To be found by a patrol and executed?' T'Kray interrupted. 'We have to help him leave. Right now. It's not far. He's not a fragile human. Now he's awake, he'll make it.' The old man swallowed and nodded. 'I am T'Kray.' He nodded again, then stared.

'Right, and I am the virgin Mary.' She raised her eyebrows. The old man stood and offered his hand to his friend, hauling him to his feet with a strength she hadn't expected him to have. He brushed dust off his knees and faced her. 'T'Kray is about my age. You may be a Vulcan, I can't see that under all that hair. But you're not her.'

'As far as I can see, she looks like T'Kray when she was young,' the Vulcan said quietly. 'She also sounds like her.' And then it hit her. He had aged, but his voice was still the same.

'Spock!' He nodded. 'What are you doing here? Don't tell me you come as an ambassador. It's no good, the humans here have very concrete plans to commit genocide on these people. Did you get my distress signal?'

'I am here to find information on strange events in the galaxy that seem to originate here. I do not know about a distress signal, but I do know that the scanners of the ship that brought us did not find a barrier. Evidently, there was one. And I second what Doctor McCoy said. You cannot be T'Kray.'

'McCoy? The McCoy?' The old man folded his arms. 'Most of the time I manage to receive audio signals the Federation are broadcasting. You are quite famous. And precisely who I need: A medic. A brilliant medic.'

'A decrepit medic who has finally realised it's time to retire. And less than a year later, a mad Vulcan decides to ruin it all and get me murdered on a strange planet with violent settlers.' He shot Spock a dirty look. The effect wasn't quite as impressive as he meant it to be since he was still effectively supporting him.

'Please come with me.' T'Kray pushed her hair out of her face. 'Look, I'm Vulcan all right, and I'll explain everything you want to know. The humans here don't like anything that isn't them, including me.' She started to walk, and McCoy and Spock followed.

'Explains the hairstyle, but your ductus mystifies me. Well, let's go then.' They did.

'A question. Why did you have to apply CPR?'

'Because people are supposed to remain complete rather than being scattered halfway through the universe.'

'Because,' Spock said calmly, 'the shield interfered with the transporter beam and while that was the case, I could not breathe. Apparently, the Doctor broke through sooner than I did and therefore was not suffocated.'

'I thought I would be.' He shook his head. 'I hope this isn't too far. Because I'm an old man and need to rest. After today, quite a lot.' T'Kray nodded. They walked in silence until they reached the rail. She typed a code into the panel again.

'In less than ten minutes, you can get your rest, Doctor McCoy. Both of you, actually.'

* * *

_((Plan A for this chapter was showing our main characters, revealing why they're trying to do what. But since the outcome of that would be obvious, I ditched that idea and you get this instead. Also, the chapter heading isn't a quote of any description. That's so rare for me I thought I'd mention it. ;)_

_Concerning updates, I promise I'll be as fast as I can, but being a full time worker I will need time for each chapter. I write at work often enough, but I cannot proof read there because I can't concentrate enough for that. I don't have a beta, so it's only me.))_


	3. Follow You to Hell

_((I eat my words: I do proofread during work. Just as a warning._

_Two technical points …_

_Because it's come up in different texts: I use British spelling, including punctuation, so please don't tell me to use double quotes instead of the inverted comma._

_Regarding perspective, I had half a mind to use first person singular through Bones's eyes, but that is a very limited narrative. For that reason, I will use third person with varying mirror characters (mainly T'Kray and McCoy for the time being). That, however, opens the question how the narrative refers to people. Plan A was the official one: last names. Plan B is to call them as they think of themselves. That's a tough one. Plan C, and that's what I go for, is to write what is plausible for the current mirror character. That still leaves me with the problem from Plan B: How does one Doctor Leonard "Bones" McCoy refer to himself? Identity is a bitch._

_Now I know no-one ever calls him by his first name to his face (Friday's Child notwithstanding), but first names are a sensible thing to use, no?))_

* * *

'Beautiful place you have here.' Leonard was being only half cynical. The surrounding area was more than pleasant. Rolling hills, a lake, nothing apart from one complex of buildings. That complex, however, looked completely out of place. There was a tall tower that looked like a radio station, high enough to be seen looming behind one of the other two buildings. From the road, the most conspicuous part of the complex was a house large enough for two families, elaborate with its bowfront and what from his point of view looked like a colonnade at its back. Behind it at an angle was a third structure, this one a perfect cuboid, managing to look squat although he estimated it to be fifty storeys high. How far it stretched behind he couldn't guess. It was ugly, pure and simple, and together with the tower managed to mar a perfect idyll.

'It is meant to be useful, not ornamental,' T'Kray said. 'The house was here first, as you may have guessed. The rest was built by us.'

'Us being who?' T'Kray shook her head.

'We will talk inside.' She led the way to the block at the back. They had barely stepped through the door when a Vainal approached and talked to her in a liquid, incomprehensible tongue. Leonard exchanged a glance with Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow. T'Kray answered in Standard, sending the Vainal away with messages. She had a British colouring to her speech, he noticed with mild surprise. When the Vainal was out of sight, she turned to her guests. 'Welcome. This is the headquarters of the rebellion against the human invaders. We do have sufficient space, but for every new inhabitant to a room certain arrangements must be made. For now you will be brought to the infirmary. There I will give you a room for the night. It is a storage room, but it will have to do for now. Tomorrow you will move to the Residence.' She walked along the corridor, gesturing to them to follow. 'I am indeed who I said I am. The Vainal have a ritual that allows humanoids to rejuvenate.' Spock regarded her with the same look he might direct at a new species of snail.

'That sounds hard to believe.'

'I know. But to you I can prove my identity. It was you who provided the biochemical background I needed for my thesis. When we parted, you said I had written truths our people weren't yet ready to accept and that my essay would be hidden away in a library. You were right.' Her expression was the closest thing to an imploring look Leonard had ever seen in a Vulcan. He turned his gaze to his friend, half admiring his calm, half cursing him inwardly for it.

'That doesn't sound like you, Spock.'

'It is what I said.'

'Have you actually read her thesis?'

'As she mentioned, I had a hand in the research.' Leonard stared at him for a moment, then looked back at T'Kray.

'I don't get any of you. Never have. Damn you, Spock, but I trust you. So what … I mean, why …' He fell silent again. 'I don't want to spend what remains of my life trapped and in hiding. I just want to go home. I should never have left in the first place.' They had reached the infirmary. Vainal in a white uniforms crossed their path occasionally. T'Kray opened a door labelled MAINTENANCE. The room behind was cluttered with broken looking objects of various types with only a narrow corridor leading through it and into another door. The next room was empty except for ten field beds. 'Again, my apologies for this. By tomorrow I will have proper rooms for you.'

'I may be old, but I'm not a princess.'

'Bathrooms are further down the corridor we came through on the left. Food will be served in the Alms, that's the old building. In fine weather we eat in the peristyle, when it's cold or otherwise unpleasant just inside. Tonight I can arrange for you to get some of the infirmary food, but I warn you that it's not the most pleasant.'

'We'll take some anyway. I will, at least.'

'Very well. Make yourselves as comfortable as you can, you will be brought a tray of hospital fare shortly.' Something close to a smile appeared on her face. 'Get yourselves settled.' She walked back to the door, then stopped. 'Doctor, I have to ask you a favour. Once you've eaten, would you please come and see me in the room across the maintenance? I have a patient who cannot wait until tomorrow, I am afraid.' He wanted to say no. Wanted to tell her he was dead on his feet, needed to sleep, needed to get used to the fact he had nowhere to go.

'Could you not provide medication to keep them stable through the night?' Spock asked. Leonard sighed.

'No, it's fine. I'll be over.' He looked at his friend. 'I'd never forgive myself. You know that.'

'Indeed.'

ϡ

Leonard swallowed. He stared at the blackened foot of the sleeping Vainal, stared at T'Kray, opened his mouth and closed it again. He regretted eating the bland stuff they had been served as food. 'This is the fifth case in a month, you say? Is diabetes an issue with Vainal?' He was careful not to raise his voice above a whisper. T'Kray shook her head.

'No. I believe I know the source, and I have taken the appropriate measures to stop the disease from spreading further. It's caused by a mineral, and there is a counteragent available. But it doesn't repair damage already done.' She took a deep breath. 'By chance I found a way to prevent future damage. But I'm not a surgeon.'

'Well, T'Kray, at least the simple solution should be obvious for anyone who can wield a hatchet.' She shook her head.

'We both know that isn't true. I need your help, and I ask you to teach Minian how to do it. He is my apprentice in all things medical.'

'Medicine as a skilled trade. Oh, well. Bring him then. How the hell did you treat this before I came?' T'Kray pursed her lips.

'The Vainal still have to get used to the fact that medical help is an option at all. I never had a case that was treatable. I warn you, Doctor McCoy, that we don't have the most modern equipment. You cannot save his foot.'

'Why, isn't that getting better and better. I'm a doctor, not a butcher, T'Kray. Do you have anaesthetics, at least?'

'None that work on Vainal.' He took a deep breath.

'Mind you, if this man's condition was predictable, why didn't you just give him whatever it is that can prevent such a mess? Why wait so long?'

'I didn't. He waited. Like I said, the Vainal aren't used to anyone helping them. He came in early this morning when I was leaving for the city. But I never expected it would be you I would bring back here.'

'Right. Because it takes a real luminary to cut off a foot with dry gangrene.' He folded his arms. 'Bring me your boy. I'll show him how to treat … this … and then you tell me why the hell you were so happy it's me that's stranded here. And once we're done with that, we can all talk about how on earth you can be … well, you.' Again, he saw a slight smile – much more than the ghost-smiles Spock occasionally offered – on her face.

'It may turn out that to these very different question there is one single, long answer. We will talk. I will tell you everything you want to know, and of course, I won't lie. But please help this Vainal first.'

ϡ

He should have been relieved when they were finished, but he was only angry. T'Kray, who had watched Leonard instruct Minian how and where to cut while the Vainal was screaming in agony, offering him to go to sleep and talk in the morning was just the final straw. He knew Vulcans didn't like being touched. He also knew he would sail across the room if she decided to backhand him. He simply didn't care. He grabbed her by her arms and stared at her, his face inches from hers.

'You listen to me now. I'm too old to be pushed aside by you. I'm too angry to trust you. You dragged us here, looked at me as though I'm the answer to all your prayers, offered explanations, and now you're trying to promise me jam tomorrow. You'll talk now, or we leave.' The threat was empty, and Leonard knew it. T'Kray's expression hardened, her hands shot up and slapped his aside.

'If you wish to die, walk.' He glared at her, fully aware that she was taller, stronger, and a lot younger than him – however that worked. The worst part was that she was probably right. 'On the other hand, you could just listen to me.' She waited for him to argue and continued when nothing came. 'You have come to a dangerous place. I, too, am very interested to learn what brought you here. But I'm not asking now because I see the exhaustion in you. I'm not trying to hide anything, Doctor McCoy.' Her look and tone grew more gentle. 'I have things to take care of. Before I bid you good night, hear just why I am pleased that both of you are here. Maybe it will satisfy you for the moment, and I will know you had time to think about it rather than feeling overrun.'

ϡ

By the time Leonard reached the holding cell, as he had named the room in his mind, his anger had been replaced by a sense of foreboding. He slammed the door shut behind him, ripping Spock out of a deep meditation. If the Vulcan was irritated, it didn't show. 'Sorry,' he growled.

'Should I be worried?' Leonard glared at him.

'Worried? You? Isn't that an emotion?' He instantly felt sorry. 'Please don't answer that. T'Kray told me a few things I didn't like to hear, but maybe that's because I don't understand them. You could help me there.' Spock sat up and regarded him with a look so focussed he felt guilty. The man had tried to rest his mind, and he was weighing upon it.

'What did she ask of you?'

'Nothing out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that I have to work with medieval methods. It's what she wants from you that's worrying me.' He sat on the field bed he had claimed earlier and rubbed his hands over his face. 'She has a patient who's completely apathetic. She didn't dare look into his mind for two reasons. One, because he's human and she's never done it to a non-Vulcan. Two, because she isn't certain there _is_ a mind inside that man.' At this, Spock raised an eyebrow. 'Now I made the mistake to tell her you've melded with humans. She's going to ask you to do it. Tell me what that can do to you.' Spock didn't answer at once, obviously weighing his words carefully.

'With another Vulcan watching over the process, I am safe,' he said at last. 'She can guide me out of a meld that would be harmful for me otherwise. When T'Kray is present, I am confident that I can meld with her patient safely. What does she expect me to achieve?' Leonard shrugged.

'Guide him out of his apathy, I'd guess. Seems to think it's a psychological problem. I don't know, haven't seen him. But she's not a fool and I guess she'll be right.' He shook his head. 'I'm going to sleep now. And so should you. You went through an ordeal today.'

'I am in no more danger, Doctor. CPR generally works better for Vulcans than for humans, especially when done correctly.' Leonard smiled.

'I know, Spock. But still. Look after yourself. I can't do this on my own. I'm here because you asked me to. You can't leave me with this mess now.'

'I have no intention to let anything harm me. You will not be alone, Doctor.'


	4. My Heart is Black, My Soul is Bleeding

_((Like I said, reference in the narrative changing with mirror characters._

_The chapter heading is a quote from the song "Breathe on me" by Delain._

_I am, in hindsight, quite glad about my choice of narrative. It makes a change in viewpoint a lot easier to pull off without being confusing. I hope.))_

* * *

T'Kray emerged from her sleep with a strong sense of relief. The short physical contact with Doctor McCoy had unleashed a tide of impressions on her that seemed too much and too contradictory for one person. His emotions had crashed into her mind before she had time to shield herself. Confusion, fear, despair, and a wild hope he tried and failed to keep under a lid. He had said he was angry, but she didn't sense that. Obviously humans were quite unable to differentiate their own feelings. Why he wanted to suppress the only positive emotion in a blend that resulted in slight but definite bitterness eluded her as well.

T'Kray considered herself lucky that she wasn't one to deny her own emotions. Then the onslaught would have been much worse. Even so, she had needed meditation to shake off the impressions. How the man lived with himself was a miracle to her.

With the foreign thunderstorm gone, she walked to the room she had assigned them. She heard quiet conversation from inside and knocked. 'Come in.' Judging from the crisp sound of his voice, McCoy had been awake for a while. She stepped inside and found the medic sitting on one of the field beds, his feet resting on one of the others, his back against the wall. He looked entirely relaxed, but after last night, she didn't buy that. Spock sat upright, in a very Vulcan posture. 'Good morning, T'Kray. How's that Vainal?'

'I gave him something for the pain. He's not happy, afraid of what will happen. I'll try and persuade him to join us. He can't go back into the mine.'

'I assumed he's already part of the rebellion if he's here.'

'No. The infirmary is a hospital for all that need help and have nowhere else to go. It's a risk, but so far we haven't been betrayed. I can hardly turn the few that come and ask me to treat them away, can I?'

'You can, but that you're not doing it speaks in your favour. So what's the plan for today?'

'Well, breakfast first, I should think. Later I would ask you to set up what lab you can. Maybe we can synthesise the remedy for the mineral poisoning. Between the two I would ask you to have a look at the catatonic human.'

'I'll do that before I eat, thank you. If I've learned anything from last night, it's that your surprises don't go well with food.'

'For a doctor, you're quite squeamish.'

'I'm not squeamish. Not under normal circumstances. But so far, something normal still has to come my way here. Until then, I'm going to overreact, gripe, and glower at my leisure. I'm a human and perfectly entitled to be irrational like that.'

'I doubt it makes you feel better, but please, be my guest. If you want to get a tour of the place, you should come with me, anyway. I'm not giving it twice because you decide to be stubborn. I will meet you outside.'

ϡ

The two men left the building together, McCoy with a frown that told he hadn't wanted to. 'Thank you,' she said. He offered a nod and looked a little appeased. 'You can see the peristyle from here. We can either go there directly, and I show you the rest afterwards, or the other way round.'

'Your call, Doctor,' Spock said.

'I take breakfast first. At least then I'll have some time in between.'

'Very well.' She headed across the lawn to the peristyle. 'There are three buildings on the premises.'

'You don't say.' T'Kray's lips twitched, but she refused to smile at the impertinent human.

'Back there is the radio tower and power plant. It isn't an actual power plant, it merely leeches power. But I refused to call it a power leech. The infirmary is a part of the building we call the Residence. It's where everyone has their quarters. The building is defensible. It can be sealed completely, even air-tight. The third building is the Alms. It's where we eat, grow things, store things. There are also recreation rooms.' They had reached the peristyle, a colonnaded garden with tables and benches, surrounded by flowers. With the Tower and the Residence behind them, the place looked absolutely peaceful. 'You fetch your breakfast from inside. Grab anything you like, food is one of the things we do not lack. There is a sitting area inside, but right now it is locked because it's warm outside. You can eat at pretty much any time you choose to, but you will have to prepare your own food or warm what is left if you choose to have lunch at four o'clock or so. Oh, yes. The daylight cycle is 25,12 hours, so you will not have any difficulty adjusting. Winter is very cold, but that's a long time from now.'

Inside, the walls were lined with tables that held all kinds of food imaginable. Fried meat, vegetables, fruit, cereal, and bread in great variety were found next to teas, juices, and water. There were also things T'Kray knew neither Spock nor McCoy would be able to pin a name on. 'For a war zone you sure have some luxury,' the Doctor said, taking it all in.

'We have connections. Grab what you like and meet me back outside. I'll occupy a table in the sun.' This late in the morning most of the tables were free. Since she didn't feel remotely hungry, T'Kray decided to ditch breakfast. She found a table near the building and sat facing the entrance. McCoy and Spock both emerged with food. To her surprise, the human had chosen things that would be a perfectly acceptable diet for any Vulcan rather than something consisting mostly of meat as his species tended to do. The Vainal, in that respect, were no different and sometimes wondered at T'Kray for being a vegetarian. 'Any reason for your healthy fare?' McCoy blinked at her.

'Other than common sense?' He smiled. 'Nah. I eat what I like. And I try not to overindulge in the morning.'

'While you eat, let us talk about Dainam. I think I will do most of the talking, so you can eat in peace. One thing interests me, though, before I launch into my lecture. What do you know about this planet?' McCoy and Spock exchanged a glance.

'Well, the planet's been conquered by pirates is what I've heard,' the Doctor said. 'I know that the Vainal are humanoid, I recognise one when I see one, and I also know that no-one ever took measures to free them, whyever that is.' Spock steepled his fingers.

'Essentially correct but for one detail. There were plans to free the Vainal shortly after the conquest. A spokesperson of the Vainal, however, informed the Federation that their help was not desired. Nor was any contact.'

'Well, he probably said that at gunpoint!'

'I quite agree. It was enough for the Federation at that time, and later other matters seemed more urgent. The conquest, by the way, was not conducted by ordinary pirates. This was before the Federation contacted other planets themselves. First contact was often made by non-federational organisations. One of these was undermined by organised crime. The result is the fate of the Vainal. After the incident, the NFO was forbidden, and NFOs in general were no longer allowed to represent the Federation. Here the harm was already done and many considered it an overreaction. There was, in fact, no other such incident before or after this one. NFOs are mostly socio-political advocacy groups. Fraud does not appear to be a common issue.' He looked at T'Kray. 'That is all I know, I am afraid.'

'You know more than I expected. Please do eat. I will provide more recent information for you.' She looked at McCoy, the left corner of her mouth turning up very slightly. 'The Vainal, as you say, are humanoid. Although their outward appearance is very different to yours, their inner organs are very similar but mirror-inverted. Their skintone is grey with a hint of blue and doesn't vary very much. They have little physical strength but are strong telepaths. Stronger than us. They are also highly intelligent, but mathematical and technical understanding is poorly developed. Some have slight telekinetic abilities.

'The society of the Vainal is rooted deeply in their religion. If you want to pin a name on their faith, it would be pantheism. They have a High Priestess, who is the highest political power within the Vainal. She also happens to be part of the rebellion. Her name is Avrinjù and you may meet her later today.

'Amazingly, despite what they've been through, the Vainal aren't at all afraid of strangers, and it took a long time for them to realise they had to fight. Forming the rebellion was difficult, but now it's stable enough. We have a few humans, too. We had more a few years ago, but they were caught and executed. The leader of the Vainal in general is Avrinjù, but I am, you could say, the head of the rebellion. They listen to me, they trust me. With their life, as it turns out.'

'Since when does this rebellion exist?' McCoy asked.

'Well, when it finally came to be, it did so gradually. About ninety years ago we started building the Tower, if you want to use that point to mark the official beginning.'

'We? How long exactly have you been here?' T'Kray looked at McCoy and answered without a moment of hesitation.

'109 years, ten months, eight days, and seven hours.' T'Kray watched the Doctor's expression darken. She knew why. He realised his hopes to leave were slim. But since her own crash, a lot of time had passed. For the moment she left him to his gloom, however. It might help her with her plan later, if she needed to put it into action.

When they were finished, she showed them the other buildings: the inside of the Alms, the tower, and finally, the Residence. On the way back to the infirmary, McCoy spoke again. He sounded subdued but calm enough. 'You mentioned connections that supply you with food.' T'Kray nodded.

'Ah, yes. If you follow the paths from here, you will come to a vineyard. To the west, there are fields, then a village and more fields. All that belongs to one of our own. She supplies us with food and intelligence.'

'A peasant woman gone agent?'

'A very decent human who doesn't condone large-scale murder. Spock, we are here. I will, of course, not allow you to be harmed by the meld. I hope you trust me in that.'

'I do. In there?' T'Kray nodded and stepped into the sickroom before them.

ϡ

Spock made to follow her but stopped so abruptly Leonard nearly walked into him. He felt a sinking sensation, a sudden surge in the ominous dread in his gut. His heart was racing, his pulse pounding somewhere in his throat with so much force he wondered if the two devil-eared humanoids could hear its wild tattoo. 'Spock, what is it?' He tried to move past him, but the Vulcan was successfully blocking the doorway.

'Doctor, you should sit down, then I will tell you.' His voice was quiet and hoarse and full of pain.

'Move aside, Spock. What the hell's going on?' The Vulcan turned to face him, probably to say something in reply, but Leonard took advantage of the opportunity to move past him and into the room.

His eyes found the only occupied hospital bed, and like his friend before, he froze. He blinked, more than once. If his heart had been racing seconds ago, he now thought it must have stopped, but he was still standing. The room began to revolve around him, slowly at first, then like a carousel. The only fixed point was the bed, an impossibility taunting him, torturing his mind and his heart. His face felt cold, all blood had gone somewhere he couldn't fathom. Strong hands took hold of his arms, he heard someone say his name, but couldn't react. A veil fell between him and the world.

'Leonard.' He came to as abruptly as he had passed out. He sat up with a start and was instantly dizzy. 'Lie back down. For a moment I feared your heart had failed. I am relieved you were only unconscious.' He obeyed without question, too astonished even to taunt Spock for being emotional enough to fear for his life.

'You've never called me that, even when I asked you to. Why start now?' He didn't get an answer and opened his eyes. He was back in the room they had spent the night in, alone with Spock. 'Spock, tell me I haven't gone mad.'

'No more than I.' A weary smile spread on Leonard's face. He had said a hundred times that Spock was being delusional, that he wanted no part in his mad quest. 'I initiated a mind meld. It was very difficult to break through the blockade rendering him unable to communicate, but he is in there. He cannot, however, get out, for some reason. T'Kray says she may have a solution now that she knows he is not just a shell.' He paused for a moment. 'I apologise for my lack of formality when you woke up, Doctor.' Leonard did sit up now, however slowly.

'No, don't be a fool. Aren't we friends?'

'I hope so.'

'Then use my first name. I carried your soul around, for crying out loud. If that doesn't warrant a bit of informality I don't know what does, Spock.' He looked deeply into the Vulcan's eyes, as always unfathomable. 'Is he going to be all right?'

'I am afraid I cannot answer that question. T'Kray might be able to give you odds. She is talking to her High Priestess right now and will be back shortly. She said she will require assistance, if she is allowed to save him. Apparently she has to convince Avrinjù that he is not a spy. I told T'Kray who he is, and I am confident she will try to help.'

'Good man. Anyway, no matter what she asks, there's nothing I wouldn't do.'

'Agreed.'

'It's so hard to believe. Tell me. Let me hear it.'

'What do you need to hear, Leonard?' He felt his lower lip tremble. Angry at what his age was turning him into, he waited for the stupid wave of sentiment to subside before he trusted himself with speech.

'What I saw.' He earned himself a look of mild confusion.

'But you do remember.'

'Humour me.' Spock nodded. His expression showed hardly anything and someone who hadn't known him for decades wouldn't see any change in it. Leonard saw it: a mixture of understanding and pity, a blend that was answer enough in itself without the words.

'You saw right. Jim is here. He is alive, like the others. I sensed him, I was not hallucinating. But he is drifting away. If T'Kray does not get her answer today, it will be too late. We can only hope.'

* * *

_((Again: I don't think Spock (or anyone) ever calls him Leonard. Please correct me if I'm wrong, then I'll rephrase that a bit. Reference would be appreciated in that case!_

_The end of this chapter shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, given the summary. I must say, I've never before applied 'confront first, explain later' techniques in writing. I'm experimenting a lot in this. I promise, explanations will come gradually. A hint is already in there.))_


	5. The Soul of Friendship

_((Let me warn you I am very very tired, come straight from work, and am certainly not at my most attentive. I'll proofread everything again with a few weeks temporal distance, as I always do, so I'll get a chance to correct what I am certain I've overlooked now._

_To those who have done so: Thanks for reviewing, it is appreciated! A lot, actually._

_I will, in one of the next chapters, go far enough into histology to warrant the word science in the term sci-fi. Also, I changed the categories slightly (unless I forget before actually posting).))_

* * *

Being helpless wasn't something Leonard was used to, but right now, sitting at Jim's bedside, that was precisely how he felt. He had insisted to see him, and Spock had offered little resistance. There was a chance T'Kray wouldn't come back with a possibility to help. She might also come too late, and no matter whether he could actively help or not, Leonard had to be there for Jim. 'You were in contact with him, Spock. Can he hear me?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Now you listen to me, Jim. You hold on. You know how Vulcans tick. T'Kray isn't going to let you die if she can help it. Neither are we. We're both here with you. You're not alone.' He took hold of his hand and squeezed. 'There's always a way out, isn't there? That's what you've always believed. Don't stop now. Believe. No problem without a solution.'

'A psychosomatic Kobayashi Maru?' Spock asked calmly.

'Precisely. Only this time you've got just this one attempt, Jim. But you'll have help. We'll solve this.'

'As with the scenario you refer to, we have to cheat.' Leonard jumped when T'Kray talked behind him. 'And we can cheat. The ritual must be performed on hallowed ground. We have to bring him to the Alms for that. I am aware this is not necessary, but otherwise Avrinjù will never allow it. I would like to inform you what is going to happen.' Leonard nodded. 'First I need to determine your Captain's age.'

'Physiologically he's still sixty.' T'Kray raised her eyebrows.

'Well, such a clear answer certainly makes things easier. You and Spock will be the first to receive a … potion. Actually, it is a kind of tea with a cultivated bacteria. I warn you, the taste and smell is revolting. I will have to be in mental contact with all three of you.

'The bacteria will do several things, only one of them is the effect I require for this patient. It will make you remember things. That's where I come in: I pick a memory from each of you. They should be around the same time. It's very easy in your case because I can choose something you shared. I'll focus your minds on that memory.

'The bacteria will feed on the memory and you will live through it again. That would continue until this very moment, unless the process is stopped. I have to wait until this particular train of thought ends, then you will be given a substance that kills the bacteria. You'll wake up again.'

'How's this going to help Jim?'

'The bacteria will break all mental shields you may have, self-induced or caused by some sort of interference. My hope is that the shield blocking your friend will break, too. Actually, I'm quite confident it will. And it shouldn't come back after the process. You, Spock, will have to be careful around the two humans after the ritual. You will have difficulties shutting out their emotions. I ask you both not to touch him. He cannot protect himself.' Leonard nodded.

'Understood.'

'When you come round, you will be confused, but only for a moment. The first night you will suffer from night terrors. And I don't mean just bad dreams. But we'll talk about that later. You will also have to spend 24 hours alone in the altar room. Do you consent to all this?'

'What's the catch?'

'Only one, but this one is big. Given your age, I am not a hundred percent certain that your cardio-vascular system will be able to cope with the process.'

'There's a surprise. Tell you what, I wonder about that every time a walk a longer distance than from one room to the next. Why do I feel you're not telling us everything?' T'Kray took a deep breath, clasped her hands and looked at him, but Spock's answer came faster.

'If you have not figured it out, that is a Freudian slip, Doctor.' McCoy glared at him, and T'Kray spoke before they could get into an argument.

'Let me tell you this: On this planet, with the equipment available to us, it is the only thing that can be done. It will give you all a chance to leave. If you refuse, your friend will die within the next two days.' She walked back to the door. Before she left, she looked at them both. 'You do not even have to make up your minds. I will question you telepathically. If there is the slightest doubt within you, it will not happen. Follow me. Your Captain will be brought by the Vainal. You will have to speak with Avrinjù before the ritual and there isn't much time.'

ϡ

Shutting out McCoy and Spock's conversation, T'Kray tried to calculate the risk the medic faced. The life expectancy of the humans on Dainam was that of the early 21st century on earth in highly developed countries. That meant that relatively speaking, McCoy wasn't much older than the 92-year-old who had gone through the ritual with her. Still, the strain on the heart at the beginning was considerable. Buying one life with another seemed wrong, but for this man it would not make a difference unless she was very wrong about him. She wanted him to live. Both of them, but McCoy's chances were smaller.

In the Alms, she brought them to the first floor. That was where the recreation rooms were built, among them the altar room meant for rituals and prayer. The room was dark, lit only by candles. The floor was covered with a soft, deep-pile rug. A huge altar made of dark wood loomed at the back of the room by a shuttered window. And here, right before the altar, Avrinjù was waiting. The old Vainal sat in a perfect lotus position on the ground. The High Priestess was the only person allowed to rejuvenate more than once, and T'Kray couldn't even begin to guess how old she really was. 'Meet the High Priestess Avrinjù.'

'I am honoured, High Priestess,' McCoy said.

'Quiet, lad.' The Doctor exchanged a look with Spock. 'Before you start blubbering, full of concern you may violate some protocol. Humans. And Vulcans, it seems. Speak freely. My title is something to explain what I am, not something to call me.' A sheepish grin formed on McCoy's face.

'Well, I … Thank you.'

'Sit. All three of you.' She indicated a group of pillows on the floor. T'Kray took the lead and sat, followed by the other two. 'Now T'Kray told me who you are. But she didn't say why you're here.'

'She never asked,' Spock replied.

'Everyone that joins us here speaks with me eventually. So why should they have to tell their tale twice?'

'Logical. Doctor McCoy is here because I required his help.' T'Kray smiled. She couldn't help it. She knew what Avrinjù would tell them when Spock was finished. She had been there. 'There have been various incidents of pairs of dead people reappearing, always with many years in between but reaching far back. For a long time these reports were considered fake, but the most recent ones were verified. These people seemed to appear two at a time and they all died soon after being found. Only after the last incident, a spaceship measured a wave of energy that might be responsible coming from this system. Around the same time, I began feeling the thoughts of a familiar mind. That was impossible, since the man had died. He had been believed dead long ago, but had actually been trapped. His real death was reported only 15 months ago. That time, it was definite.' He swallowed. 'Or so I thought, for now he is here.'

'James Kirk,' Avrinjù said. 'T'Kray found him and wasn't certain if he was a spy. But now I know who he is, I know this is not the case.' She folded her arms and looked at Spock with a serious and stern expression. 'In this room and in my company, titles have no meaning. Not mine, not T'Kray's, and not Leonard's. A name, in humans a given name, holds a part of your soul.'

'Understood.'

'Leonard, what brings you? A friend's call for help, it seems.'

'Yes, Avrinjù. Spock told me he was channelling Jim and needed my help.' T'Kray looked at him as though she saw him the first time.

'And you believed him? Remarkable for a human.' He sighed.

'So so. I wanted to believe him. I … I told him he was delusional … Sorry for that, Spock.' He shook his head, his look distant, the light of the candles dancing in his eyes. 'I went because I know a bit about Vulcans and souls, having played vessel for one, and thought he of all people knows what he's saying. And I went because … how could I not if he asks me to? But it sounded just so fanciful. I still can hardly wrap my mind around this. It's a shock. The good kind, but still a shock.' There was a knock on the door.

'Please, come in,' Avrinjù called. Two Vainal pushed a hospital bed inside. A human followed. 'Very good. T'Kray, are you prepared?'

'I am. And Charika, I'll need you.' The human merely nodded. Avrinjù clapped her hands together.

'Excellent. Please commence.'

ϡ

With her eyes closed, T'Kray pressed her hands together. She focussed inward. On herself. Took inventory of her mind, categorising thoughts and emotions so she wouldn't get lost in the meld. She approached Spock first, placing the tips of both hands on his face, travelling marginally to find the right spots. She probed gently, asking for entrance, and was granted.

_You will pass through the ritual of the Vainal. There will be pain, but your friend may be saved. Is this what you want? Answer with your heart, not with words._

Through the organised mind of the Vulcan, she received a clear affirmative in reply and withdrew. She turned to McCoy next. He looked apprehensive, his bright eyes wide. Steadying herself for her first meld with a human, she positioned her fingertips on the meld points. As before, she waited for permission, with her mind, not with words, before asking the same question. This time, the answer was chaos, a certain degree of fear mixed into the mess. She couldn't quell it, conveyed instead that he might die in case it hadn't been clear before. What he wanted, however, was easy to read out of the mess: He wanted to save his friend, no matter what it would cost him. She had judged him correctly.

The last meld was difficult. T'Kray had a to push much harder to be heard.

_James Kirk, I may be able to save you. Do you wish to live?_

The answer was unclear enough for her to hesitate. Then she decided to paraphrase.

_If you do, you will no longer be trapped. You will be yourself. Do you want that?_

This time, an affirmative so strong she was thrown out of the meld. For a moment she considered reinitialising it to inform him it might cost McCoy's life, but then thought better of it. It was the Doctor's decision alone. T'Kray looked at Avrinjù. 'They agree.' Avrinjù rose and faced the altar, muttering under her breath. She took a chalice and offered it to McCoy.

'Drink, Leonard.' There was no fear in his eyes, his jaw was set in a defiant manner. The man's courage was admirable. He drank without flinching.

'Cheers, Jim,' he said quietly. 'Tastes like mouldy, rotten Kombucha. Stop smiling, T'Kray, it's confusing in a Vulcan.' She did and hoped these weren't his last words. It struck her he would probably be proud of them. Spock tore his eyes from the Doctor and drank. Avrinjù moved from him to Kirk. T'Kray couldn't see how she was doing it, but he was not the first unconscious man to be fed the potion for the ritual. There was one in almost everyone. A hopeless case was needed, otherwise it wasn't allowed.

Silence reigned until the three men had slipped into a trancelike state. The reason was simple. Without guidance, their minds had no access to their memories. Any memories.

'Charika, please check this man's pulse constantly,' T'Kray said quietly, indicating McCoy. 'If it becomes worrisome, run for Minian.' She knelt before the Doctor and placed one hand on his face again. His mind was wide open. She took hold of it, keeping focussed on him, and moved over to Spock where she repeated the action. With an effort of will, she linked their minds. From Spock, she created another link to Kirk. She marvelled at how easy it was. That they knew each other so well helped a lot. There were links there already, and her creation was drawn to these threads of shared memories, dancing around them in tendrils increasing in strength and brilliance, a bright, royal blue link between the Doctor and Spock, and a gentle mint-green shot with crimson between Spock and Jim.She could have watched for hours.

Tearing her focus from the play of colours she knew Avrinjù was monitoring, she dug gently into the memories the three men shared. The one that sprang to her was painful, as these bacteria-fed memories always were. She felt torture in all three of them, caused by physical pain as well as fear and compassion. She knew she couldn't change it. They had to live through whatever had caused this once more. Only after this particular memory had run its course Avrinjù would allow her to terminate the process. A nervous yellow started at McCoy's end of their connection, and at the edge of her perception she saw Charika darting out of the room. It wasn't necessary, however. Spock, being a Vulcan, used the meld to soothe him and absorb his agony.

'This will do,' Avrinjù's voice drifted into her concentration. 'The process has ended.' The link was still there, and T'Kray severed it cautiously. Somehow Minian had come in without her noticing. He looked unconcerned, so she took it McCoy was safe, but she still made sure all three were stable. Avrinjù placed a jug of scented water and a loaf of bread on the alter and they left, locking the door behind them.

* * *

___((I don't know if Kombucha is a thing in the English speaking world, so I'll explain: It's tea fermented with some sort of bacteria and yeast. Seems to be something of Asian origin, all I know is it tastes good._

_The rating, I believe, will stay as it is unless I should at one point feel the need to be brutal. I have no intention to add anything explicitly violent or erotic, however. I don't think it would fit. I can only be certain about that after the night terrors however. I might get carried away there since I have something specific in mind. Depends on how I'll handle it._

_My reasoning why Spock can protect McCoy in his trance is because of the incident they're reliving. There he offers to do something along those lines. In the forced memory he recalls that, and therefore can do it now. (Note to self: T'Kray has this one wrong, it's not just because he's a Vulcan. So much for the reliability of limited narrative. - In truth, of course, her mental note is something I overlooked and now shamelessly use.) If you want to guess what it refers to – feel free to do so.))_


	6. Sigmund's Revenge

_((Zedoc got the answer to the A/N to the previous chapter right if you're wondering. From here on that's a given, though._

'_I stand with one foot in the grave' is a cantata by Johann Sebastian Bach, BWV 156. Yes, there's a reason why I say that._

_The chapter heading is self-explanatory, I should think._

_Now this chapter was difficult to write further into it, what with my decision to keep the rating down. Oh boy. I need to do that more often, restr__ict__ myself to non-explicit language. It's certainly challenging._

_Proofreading and I aren't friends. If I don't do it at work, I do it at night. Oh, well.))_

* * *

The first thing Leonard felt when he woke up was the soft rug. He heard whispered talking, quiet enough to go back to sleep. Then it struck him that Spock wasn't one to mutter to himself, and he blinked the fog from his eyes.

The darkness in the room wasn't quite complete, even though the candles had gone out. The shape of the altar loomed up to his left, a more solid black than the rest of the room, two figures leaning against it. The pain of the memory vanished with a pang of realisation and he crawled the few feet over to them, beaming. 'Hey, Jim. Good to see you awake.' The easy tone in the reply warmed him from within.

'Finally awake, Bones?' Leonard jabbed a finger at him.

'You're one to talk. I thought I'd never hear your voice again.'

'Well, it's not that easy to get rid of me. Spock gave me a good idea of what this place is about. What mystifies me is that woman. I remember how she tried to get through, and I meant to tell her I was fine, but I just … couldn't. Very strange, first she wanted to take me in for questioning, then she tried talking to me, and shortly before you came she said she had to end this, which I took to mean she was going to kill me.'

'Jim, I wish I knew what was the matter with you, but I haven't the faintest idea. But you can be sure T'Kray didn't plan to harm you, she meant to help. She nearly did a happy dance when she realised who Spock and I are.'

'I do not believe that T'Kray intended to perform any such undignified action.' Leonard snorted.

'More's the pity.' He sighed and sat next to Jim, resting his back and head against the altar. 'I don't understand what she's about. She smiles, Jim. And not just some sort of flicker in her expression, but she actually smiles. For some reason she hates me though.'

'What makes you think that, Doctor?'

'I'm starting to believe it's got something to do with her being Vulcan.'

'I assure you that …'

'Shut up until you remember who I am. She said she'd pick a memory we share, and she takes the one with the highest potential to off me. I nearly died then, although I was a hundred years younger. I wonder how I survived this now. It was like it happened all over again.'

'Yes, everything seemed exactly as it did back then,' Jim said quietly. 'I wonder how all that is possible.'

'I do not believe that T'Kray could make a conscious choice about the memory that was selected. She had to take something that came to her. If you want, you could say the bacteria chose the memory.'

'Brilliant.' Leonard flexed his arms. 'I feel like I've been ripped apart and reassembled. At least there's no pain now, I was sore for three months even after these … Vians finally decided to heal me.'

'This time, nothing was done to you physically. That is why you were not harmed.'

'I'm not completely clueless. I know you had a hand in keeping me safe.'

'Speaking of which, are you all right, Bones? You were out for quite a while.'

'Well, no limbs missing, no pain, so I assume I'm fine. What about you, though?'

'Nothing wrong with me.'

'Any idea what time it is? Because I feel no terror whatsoever.'

'It is around six in the evening, compared to Earth measures. I cannot tell you more precisely due to my own unconsciousness. We should eat and drink before we rest. T'Kray also asked me to tell you that we should contemplate what our plans for the future are while we are here.' McCoy leaned forward and looked past Jim at the Vulcan as though expecting him to call 'April fool'. In the darkness of the room he couldn't make out for certain if Spock was even looking in his general direction.

'Plans? Other than getting the hell out of here and home? I stand with one foot in the grave!'

'Bones, you'll find that this argument no longer flies.'

'Doctor, I suggest you put your considerable mental faculties to better use than quoting Bach.' Leonard huffed.

'Look, Spock, if I want to be mocked I can do that myself.' He heard movement and glanced to the Vulcan again. 'What?' Spock had shifted so he sat across him and Jim.

'Take your own pulse, Leonard.'

'Leonard?' Jim echoed, his voice delighted.

'Yeah, a little success there, but I'd prefer more regularity. Quiet now, I need to count.' He did, then ceased. 'I don't know if that was a minute because I don't have a chronometer of any description, but I estimate around seventy.'

'You took your resting heart rate on the ship. What was it?'

'Way too high, 124, but it's been that way … Wait.' He squinted, trying and failing to get a better look at his friends. 'What are your observations about yourselves? Jim?'

'I haven't considered it, to be honest. I just took Spock's word for it.'

'To my subjective grading, the room seems warmer than before, among other things. The basis for what I say is not, however, merely what I observe in myself. I can see better in the dark than either of you. I see you both quite clearly, in fact. It merely confirms what I understood prior to this … ritual. And the only reason why you have not realised it yet is that you obviously, deep down, do not want to know.' Although Leonard couldn't see it, he heard the slight change in Spock's voice in the next sentence, a sense of mirth that wasn't often there. 'A typically human trait, to make an unconscious choice not to understand because the truth would be either unpleasant or too good to be trusted. Judging by your facial expression, I take it you have understood. I believe sometimes it helps to say out loud what is so hard to grasp.' Leonard swallowed and nodded, then shook his head.

'Stop Freuding me, Spock.' He rubbed his hands over his face. 'All right, I give up, I'll say it. Her ritual is the same she went through. We're young again.' His expression was sinister. 'The strange part is that I'm not entirely certain I like that. Let's eat before I decide I can't stomach anything right now.'

ϡ

The silence while they ate was welcome. Only now Leonard realised how hungry he was. 'Have I slept for a few hours or for days, I wonder. And yes, that was a rhetorical question.'

'The process the bacteria set into motion was obviously rather energy-intensive.'

'Speaking of which … How's it possible?'

'We can try and find out if we bring some of the bacteria onto a ship with the necessary equipment. I would, however, recommend you to refrain.'

'Better not play snake and bring an apple, you're right. What I wonder though is how we can remember everything after the event the things played through. If these bacteria put every cell in our bodies back to the way they were back then, they must do the same thing to the brain, which would mean we forget everything that happened later. If they don't then I'd still be 145 and would be senile in the none too distant future, which I doubt.'

'Also it's not just rejuvenation. I'm losing these clothes, Bones. I think I look exactly like I did back then.'

'In part correct. The process must be more more complex than we can fathom, however. Are you certain you are not in pain, Leonard?'

'Quite positive. What sort of question is that?'

'If we were left in the precise physical state we were in when the process ended, you would be aching.' He thought about that.

'True. Think T'Kray knows more?'

'I doubt it, but we can ask her.' Spock placed the now empty jug at the centre of the altar. 'We should all attempt to sleep. I believe it will not be the most restful night of our lives, but it seems unavoidable.'

'Can I say something?'

'Since when do you ask before you talk, Bones?'

'I'm still not sure I enjoy being so young again, but tell you what, I'm happy you're all right.'

'And I'm glad I'm not a fifth of your age and about to lose you soon. Maybe that helps you bear your fate.' Leonard offered a wry smile Jim couldn't see anyway.

'We'll see.'

ϡ

Over the past few years, Leonard had grown used to the fact that he had trouble sleeping. That had to do with a racing pulse, something that had worried him for quite some time. He hadn't had much time left. Leonard expected to wait for sleep to come for a while when he curled up on the soft rug, wondering why he wasn't happy.

The answer, he realised soon, was very obvious. He didn't like being someone's personal guinea pig. It wasn't like you could expect any more decency from a species that considered themselves Gods allowed to judge who was to live or to die. But a Vulcan … How could a Vulcan be part of this?

For all his complaining about the stubborn man, he knew his friendship with Spock was just as deep as that with Jim. If he had been in the proverbial burning house and only able to save one of them, he wouldn't know which. He had met more Vulcans since then, but none of them, not even Valeris for all her faults, had been sadistic. This one, however …

Curled up on the cot, he wanted to cry. He had admired Gem. What had happened to her he couldn't even guess. Nor did he know when she had been replaced with that cold, deadened Vulcan woman. He bit down any sound that would betray his agony. He knew how she'd react: She enjoyed it. It was obvious in her facial expression, but not only in that. The way she licked her lips while he was being tortured … It couldn't be more obvious. Worse still was how he responded to her excitement, adding confusion to the mix of agony, fear, and something he refused to identify.

And here she was. T'Kray, half a head taller than him and much stronger, knelt beside him. 'Did it hurt you?' She sounded concerned, but it was all an act.

'You know it did.'

'How's that?' With strength that was considerable even for a Vulcan, she slammed her fist into his side, right above an already damaged kidney. The pain flooding him broke his resolve to be quiet. He screamed.

'Bones! Bones, hold still. It's me, just me!' He stopped trying to escape the arms that held him. 'It's all right. You're here with us, still in that altar room. What … what did you dream?'

'Not a dream,' he managed. The pain was gone, but he remembered it vividly. 'The Vians and Gem. More or less. You?'

'Fell asleep too. Very odd. I dreamed Spock was trying to murder me. I was hiding, but I knew he'd find me.' Leonard let out a short, humourless laugh.

'Sounds familiar, after a fashion.' His next words were out before he could stop them. 'Did you enjoy it?'

'Of course, what could be more wonderful?'

'Because I was being killed. Slowly but surely. And … I didn't like it, not for a second. But some corner of my mind reacted as if what was happening was the most sensual thing in the world.' Jim looked at him.

'I … I think I know what you mean.'

'Any sign Spock's going through something similar?' As if on cue, the Vulcan let out a low groan, almost inaudible. Jim approached and reached out, but Leonard caught his arm. 'His shields are down. You touch him, you'll send him a tidal wave of emotion to deal with.' Spock sat up, reflections of the more than scarce light indicating his eyes were open. He didn't appear to be awake, however.. 'Hell with it. She's right, that's not bad dreams, it's night terrors. Wake him, if you can!' Jim took the Vulcan by the shoulders and shook him. The reaction to that was a sudden shove that knocked him back a few feet. But it had worked, Spock was awake. Jim picked himself up and came back.

'There's a difference between bad dreams and night terrors?'

'Yeah, this is neither and a bit of both. Never mind that now. Anyone want to go back to sleep? Because I don't.'

'Before she left, T'Kray gave me a message. We have to find a resolution for what visions we get to end them. Otherwise they will last all night. Captain, are you all right? I apologise.'

'Never mind that. What did you dream, Spock?' Jim asked quietly. The Vulcan looked at him.

'It was nothing real. It should not concern you.'

'I'm just curious.'

'Me too. I half thought you wouldn't get this at all, seeing how Vulcans don't dream.'

'Not normally. If you have to know, I was perishing slowly of asphyxiation. I believe it has something to do with the incident at our arrival.'

'Makes sense to me.'

'Was it in some way pleasant?' Leonard flushed in place of Jim.

'You can't ask him that!'

'Strangely enough, it was.' Leonard shook his head.

'Please don't elaborate. You're saying we've got to go back to sleep to resolve this?'

'Yes. It will be difficult for you, for me the dream was lucid to begin with. Lie down and do not move, no matter what happens. If you trust me, I may be able to make this easier for you.' They obeyed. 'Relax. Completely. Make sure you are comfortable. Tell me when you are.'

'I am,' Jim said almost at once. After a few moments, Leonard decided his position was one he could remain in for a long time.

'Me too.' When Spock spoke again, his voice was very quiet, barely above a whisper.

'Good. No moving, no speaking. Do not fall asleep, but do not fear the dreams, either. They cannot harm you. Think about the future we all have been given. This is a good time to contemplate what to do with the time available to us. Ideally, you will feel paralysed after a while. Do not fear this, it merely means your body is asleep while your mind is still awake. If you get close to that point or reach it, I will be able to assist you. When you are there, think of the place you were in before. And remind yourselves it is but a vision.'

Not completely unfamiliar with the technique, Leonard knew what to expect. A sense of dread, a feeling that there was an intruder, many similar things. He had never tried anything of the sort, however, nor had he experienced a sleep paralysis of any other origin. Doubting very much that this would work, he let his thoughts wander, reminding himself that he had something to do and should not fall asleep. And then it came. The sense that he couldn't move if his life depended on it. There was a gentle touch on his face, the fear went away, and he could think clearly. Steeling himself, he focussed on the Vians' torture chamber.

'I'm back,' he said unnecessarily. T'Kray was still there, waiting for him. 'How did the Vians get you?'

'Vians? It's only the two of us here.' She approached him, her face devoid of any expression. 'You look frail, even for a human. Is that why you fear and despise everything that isn't like you?'

'What, is that your excuse for torturing me? That in fact I'm the bad guy here?'

'Your hatred for other species makes that plausible.' He bridled.

'How can you think I'm xenophobic?' Then again, he thought, it's she in this dream. Does she frighten you because she's Vulcan? 'I'm not scared of you! I just don't … I don't understand how you beat!'

'And those that held you here before? You must hate them.' This time, Leonard took longer to answer.

'No. I came close to hating another group of people but … I guess it depends on how you define hatred.' The scenery had changed, reminding him that this wasn't real. Now there was marble, columns, and a piece of chequered floor.

'How do you?'

'I … I read something once in an old Earth novel. Something about being unable to give life to those who deserve it and thinking twice before sentencing someone to death. And when I read that, all those years ago, I thought that's something I can relate to.'

'Elaborate.'

'To hate someone means I'd have to be able to walk away when they need help, without regrets. But that's not me. Vians, Platonians, anyone, I'd have loved to see them answer for what they did to me and the others. But I am no judge, let alone an executioner. I'd not have let any of these bleed to death if I could help. That's how I define hatred: wish them dead so much I'd decide not to help even if I can.'

'Then the only one you hate is yourself.' Frowning, Leonard stared at her.

'What makes you say that? We were supposed to get night terrors. That I have them doesn't mean I suffer from self-contempt.'

'You have received a gift many would envy you for. Your friend James Kirk is glad about it, Spock isn't averse to it either. But you would rather have died of heart failure in the near future. According to what you said, it means you hate yourself.'

'Between you and Spock … But you're worse, because you're a product of my own thoughts. No, I don't hate myself. Or my life. But what will I do with it? I had pretty much settled my affairs. I … I guess I'll be happy enough as soon as it gets through that thick skull of mine. I don't think … No. I don't want to die.'

'In that case, sleep tight, Leonard McCoy.' And he did.


	7. May your Growth be Steady

_((As I've mentioned before, I am a full-time employee, I am a chorister, and I have a family including two dogs. So I do update, but sometimes it will take me a while. Give me time ;) I got the hint to hurry up the moment I finished proofreading and checked my e-mail. Here's to that! XD_

_To Leo: First, thanks for the review! I always, and I mean always, struggle with chapter headings and I really don't know why I bother with them. More than half the time I use songtitles or quotes. In chapter 6 there is the second reference to Freud and a lot of lay psychology my cousin would strangle me for – she is an actual psychologist. Freud's first name was Sigmund. That's really all there is to it. ;)_

_To Bimm's comment on chapter 3: Not a minor character, a mirror character. It's a technical term for a third person limited narrative that uses the POV of one or more specific characters like I do. The active POV-character is the mirror character. That's what you get for reading stuff from an almost-philologist. ;)_

_In that vein, here's one hell of a chapter heading. It makes sense to me in the context of the chapter, but probably not to anyone else. That's life._

_Tetrodotoxin and batrachotoxin are the poisons of puffer fish and certain poison frogs respectively. Each is used as an antidote for the other. Again: Yes, there's a reason why I say that.))_

* * *

When T'Kray unlocked the altar room, she did it with some apprehension. The ritual took a toll on the body and the mind. It was rumoured that some people had lost it, she had seen one die two minutes into the meld, and she had heard of one man going to sleep afterwards and never waking up again. But these people … she needed Spock and McCoy, and Kirk had been cheated of his chance to grow old with his friends. 'Go on in, child,' Avrinjù said behind her. Steeling herself, she obeyed.

The sight that greeted her drove the hint of anxiety from her. They sat in a triangle, their heads together. The sliver of light from the corridor caused them to look up, Kirk craning his neck to see her behind him. 'Good day to you. I hope the night wasn't too long.' Kirk beamed at her.

'There she is, the voice in the dark.' He rose and approached, one hand holding his trousers in place. McCoy grinned, watching him. 'Thank you. For … everything.' T'Kray nodded.

'You are welcome. I hope you are all well.' Kirk smiled.

'Yes, yes we are. The good doctor was wondering how this is possible.'

'He is welcome to try and find out. Avrinjù has a few words for you.' The High Priestess looked at the three men.

'Leonard. I felt your pain. I hope it has passed.' The medic pursed his lips.

'Yes. I'm good. Never mind me.' T'Kray wondered if he was being sarcastic and made a mental note to find out.

'Spock, for you the weakening of your defence is worst. I know that from T'Kray. If you require help in re-establishing your shield, do not hesitate to ask me.' McCoy and Spock had come to Kirk's side by now. The former stood with his arms folded, a natural barrier between him and the two women.

'She talks more like a Vulcan than T'Kray,' he muttered in a carrying whisper.

'Thank you, Avrinjù. I believe I will manage,' Spock said.

'James. Your friends have come a long way to save you, a journey into the unknown. Do you know what you have in them?' Kirk glanced first left and then right and crossed his legs to keep his clothes in place before putting an arm around each of his friends. T'Kray flinched inwardly, but Spock showed no reaction. Judging from the serene look on Kirk's face, if there was some transfer of emotions, at least they should be positive and unobtrusive.

'I know that, yes. And I don't know how I can ever thank you both.' McCoy growled.

'You want to thank Spock, let go of him. As for me, you could start by staying alive.'

'I welcome you to Dainam. I cannot offer you a means to leave, but T'Kray believes you can help yourselves and us. She will let you know where you are most needed. If you wish to speak to me about anything, you can always come. T'Kray knows where I can be found.' With that, the wizened woman walked away, leaving them in the room with her second in command.

'Captain, I would ask you to follow me on a patrol. You will be equipped with a weapon we have obtained. Doctor, please go to the laboratory and find out what you can. Use whatever you need, we can resupply. Spock, I found that meditation helped me after the ritual. Get your defences up.'

ϡ

'What have your friends told you, Captain?' T'Kray asked once the other two had left the Alms.

'All they know, I assume. About you, this place, some sort of disease you wanted the Doctor to work on.'

'Yes. Indeed. Have they told you about the rebellion?'

'They have.'

'I know why you sound apprehensive. But it cannot possible be a violation of the Prime Directive to help us. This is not the natural way this planet should have developed.'

'Well. No. Where are we going?'

'First, the cellar. We'll find weapons there, and clothes for you.' The only source of light below the surface were narrow light shafts through which the early morning sun fell in. T'Kray brought the Captain to a storage room with a large wooden box in it. 'There, take what you like out of it. Meet me in front of the building.' When he emerged in close-fitting practical trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, she offered him an old-fashioned gun. 'Know how to handle these?'

'Yes. Do we need them?'

'I'll show you the surroundings, and I'd rather not do this unarmed. Follow me.'

Outside the shadow of the house, the morning sun had enough strength to make it comfortable without a jacket. T'Kray indicated the road leading south. 'There's a vineyard and beyond that, as you see, a mountain. The path is a dead end. We patrol it, but not regularly. Now we go west, until we reach this village. Here pairs patrol once a day.'

'Is that sufficient?'

'So far it has been. We look for signs of someone using the path. You see, there's nothing except for us here.' She looked at him. 'You were lucky I found you in the vineyard.'

'And lucky to have a Vulcan for a friend.'

'True. Are you aware that you are the one who called him here?' Kirk shook his head slowly.

'Not consciously. I was becoming more lucid over time, but I couldn't express myself.' That answer didn't satisfy T'Kray's interest in the connection between the minds of the two men, but for now, she decided to let the matter rest. If Kirk had wanted to elaborate, he would have. What was more, she was thankful the subject didn't require her complete attention. This way she could think of other things, make plans how to use the three men's skills best.

'You shouldn't be here at all. I'm starting to think that these rituals must be discontinued. It looks like whatever happens during them has an impact on far distant places, bringing people to life that should by rights be dead.'

'Well, I for one am glad I'm not dead. Bones, however …'

'Bones?' Kirk looked at her and grinned.

'Doctor McCoy.' T'Kray raised her eyebrows and smiled.

'Interesting.'

'Granted, he was happier this morning than last night.' Kirk's eyes twinkled. 'You've made an impression on him. You were his nightmare.' T'Kray stopped in her tracks, her wandering thoughts all crashing to the conversation now.

'I was?' Kirk shrugged.

'Spock told me he knows you, and apparently Doctor McCoy has read something of you. Meeting our personal heroes leaves an impression, and I think you're one of his, even if he'd never admit it.' Her curiosity threatened to get the better of her, but she swallowed it, directed it somewhere else.

'Incidentally, who were your and Spock's night terrors centred around?'

'Mine around him. His I don't know. Why?'

'I have observed this ritual before, but it was the first time I helped perform it. I have spoken to all those I witnessed pass through them, and as a psychologist, I am interested in what people have to say after such a vision.' She directed him off the road onto a grass path that seemed to lead into a forest. 'They always revolve around a person. Either around the memory from the vision or a figment of the mind. The person in the centre is usually trying to kill the one having the vision. And since that person is someone of importance, the experience can be traumatic if unresolved. Did all of you manage to do that?'

'McCoy and Spock did it very soon. It took me longer and I needed help, but I got there.' He smiled. 'Don't ask me to repeat the entire dream to you. I cannot remember much.'

'Good sign.' T'Kray led them back onto the path, but Kirk stopped her with a hand on her arm. 'Huh?' He put a forefinger on his lips and pointed at a bend. T'Kray nodded. She had heard the movement, but she believed she knew who was behind the sound Kirk had picked up. Still she humoured him. He wouldn't always be accompanied by a Vulcan whose hearing allowed better judgement. They approached cautiously. 'Who goes there?' she called when they were close enough to shoot without much danger of missing. 'Come out slowly with your hands in the air!'

'This is Matee! Don't shoot.' The woman who stepped out of her feeble cover was small and stocky with ashen hair. T'Kray lowered her gun.

'What were you hiding from?'

'I didn't know it was you. Can't be careful enough. I'll go back with you.'

'We're going to the transformer at the end of the path.' Matee shook her head.

'Bad idea. There's poachers in the corn fields, and they use special bullets now. Not for animals, mind you.' T'Kray watched Kirk out of the corner of her eye. If he had picked up that something was different about Matee, he didn't let it show.

'And you know that they're there how?' Matee looked at Kirk with folded arms, then at T'Kray.

'Who's that?'

'James Kirk. Answer him, he has much to learn about this place.' She smiled. 'And I think you are the perfect teacher for him and his friends.' Matee seemed to grow a few inches.

'I know that, because the poachers don't bother us. They leave us signs if they're there and shoot at anyone unable to read them. Their sign is usually a badly concealed broken trap somewhere near the field they're in.'

'Do you have something for us, Matee?' The small woman smiled broadly.

'Yeah. You'll love this.'

ϡ

The music was quiet enough to be inaudible outside the laboratory and loud enough not to be distracting. Leonard exchanged one specimen holder with another and cursed under his breath. 'This isn't helping. How am I supposed to work that way?' He removed the small piece of glass from under the telescope and, resisting the urge to fling it across the room, placed it carefully in the wooden box holding numerous others.

'Who do you expect to answer that question?' Leonard jumped, then turned and glared at Spock, who had entered so quietly he hadn't heard him.

'What about the Vulcan sneaking about the place? Shouldn't you be meditating?'

'I have achieved as much as I can at this moment. You, I assume, require something that is not here.'

'I could say a tricorder, but right now I'd be happy with a scanning electron microscope. Damn it, I'm not a magician!' Spock looked at him with that eternally calm expression, his hands clasped behind his back.

'May I take a look?'

'Knock yourself out.' The obligatory eyebrow rose, but Spock swallowed the comment he undoubtedly wanted to make. The Vulcan fixed the specimen holder in the microscope again and bent over it for a full minute.

'The cells are all dead, but I cannot determine the cause.'

'That's about as far as I've got, too. Thing is, ten minutes ago they weren't. I know what's doing it, but I don't know why they die. It also seems that not all kinds of tissue are affected.' He slammed a hand onto the table. 'I need to see what precisely has destroyed the cells. Then I may be able to isolate the substance that protects them.'

'Where is that substance taken from?'

'Some sort of fig they call steppefruit. In other words, a chemical cocktail in which there's probably just one single substance we need.' Hope flaring in his eyes, Leonard lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. 'A question. Would you be able to build me an SEM? Given they have all you need, that is. I have a vague hunch what's causing the death of the cells, but I need to verify that, and I need to see a lot more than I do. I tried fluorescence, but that'll get me only so far.'

'I know. I will ask T'Kray if she has the required materials. I do not know how long it will take me, however.' Leonard smiled.

'I don't care how long it takes. Thank you.'

'You will also need a microtome, doctor.' Leonard smiled.

'I will indeed.' He walked to the computer and silenced the music. 'I won't get any further right now. Any way I can help with the SEM?'

'If there really is nothing else you can do, you could search the computer for a construction plan for either. It will accelerate the process. We should have access to most of the historical data available to the Federation.' The Vulcan still stood like a statue, watching Leonard with an expression of scientific interest that was quite unnerving. Before he could say so, Spock continued. 'I would like to ask a question.'

'Now that can't be good. Ah, just ask.'

'If you had known what the ritual does, would it have made a difference?' A smile tugged on the corners of Leonard's mouth.

'No. And you should know that. I'm … I'm getting used to it. Being a healthy man in my prime is a good thing.'

'Your choice of background music seems to express a death wish.' Leonard blinked, then laughed.

'Spock, tell you the truth, I don't understand a word of it. I don't speak German.' Spock raised his eyebrows. 'I just chose something random of all the stuff she's got there. I must say I like her taste for music.'

'It seems agreeable. I believe something less sinister would suit you better, however.'

'Pick whatever you'd like.' He indicated the computer, and Spock spent about a minute before the screen until something swift and cheerful started playing. Leonard was certain there was the Vulcan equivalent to a joke in there, but he wasn't going to ask. With nothing else to do for the moment, since Spock was still occupying the only computer in the laboratory, he grabbed one of the fruits that were stored here and cut it in half.

'Ugh. That smells worse than T'Kray's potion. Now here's the thing. Some of the Vainal die when they eat these. Whyever they may feel compelled to do so. Others don't. Some rot alive when exposed to evicar … that's that mineral. Others don't. It seems that one excludes the other, and that each … substance or whatever counteracts the other. A bit like tetrodotoxin and batrachotoxin.' Looking at the fruit with considerable disgust, Leonard squeezed the juice into a jug. 'Given the clean condition of this so-called laboratory I may get completely nonsensical results, but I need to try a few things anyway.' He poured a good portion into a smaller jar and closed it with a lid. 'This I'll leave on a shelf. See what gravity does to it, unless mould is faster.' He looked wistfully at the rest. 'You won't believe what I'll do now.' He grabbed a bottle with a purplish liquid and poured a small amount into two glass jars. 'Want to guess what that is?'

'No, Doctor.'

'Red cabbage juice. It's the best they have. Can you believe this?' Leonard added a few drops from the jug into one of the jars. The juice changed its colour rapidly to a pale green. 'Right.' He looked at the Vulcan. 'How many alkaline fruits do you know?'

'There is the sand fig on …'

'It's rare.' He sighed. 'I'll just make a guess at what the evicar will do.' He took a pinch of a rust-coloured powder and mixed it into the second, still purple cabbage juice. Nothing happened. 'Right. Now all I have to find out is if this stuff is liposoluble or what.'

'I fear it may be or what.' Leonard blinked up at Spock and grinned.

'Yeah. Me too. Because otherwise T'Kray would have found out by now.'

'Leonard … If you introduce me to this laboratory, I shall gladly assist you. It might save time and trouble.' Leonard smiled broadly and was rewarded by an expression he knew was just this side of amused.

'Well, sure! Now look here, there's alcohol, absolute, secondary, and so forth. All labelled. Now in these closets back there …'


	8. Suivez Le Guide

_((The questions asked in the review by ST Fan to the previous chapter are very interesting indeed. For me as well, because it means I'm getting across what I'm aiming for. I'm always happy about feedback!_

_Ad Bimm: Pictures in my head! As a person with some experience with intentional weight loss, I can tell you that as long as you don't move you can hold trousers up, no matter how loose they are. Before you start walking you should remember to grab them though, or you're in for some embarrassment. You are right, of course. I didn't think that far, but I'm sure Jim did. Therefore I'll leave it as it is, maybe add a clause when I look through it with more time between. As for who stands where … If I had shot this scene, the triumvirate would stand before T'Kray and Avrinjù, in T'Kray's perspective from left to right McCoy, Kirk, and Spock. So if Kirk looks to his left first, he looks at Spock, then at McCoy.))_

* * *

They had made some progress, at least, even if that was mostly due to luck. An hour into their joint venture, Leonard had dashed to the Alms to bring them breakfast. He had brought it back with a cup filled with sugar for his tea. Distracted, he had dumped a spoonful of sugar into the jar with red cabbage juice and evicar. He had cursed, ignored it, and continued with other things he wanted to try. So far fat, alcohol, and arenes had all proven to do nothing whatsoever to the evicar. That last had been a desperate attempt, but there it was. When next his gaze brushed the jar, its contents were almost red. As a consequence, he had tested the sugar itself for its pH-value. If fruits could be alkaline, he wouldn't put it past the sugar – or whatever the substance they used to sweeten foods and tea was – to be something other than neutral. When that yielded nothing he decided it was safe to assume that something about sugared water broke down the evicar, part of which must be acidic. Even if that in itself brought him nowhere nearer to a solution, it was something to go on with.

A knock on the door interrupted his search for a construction plan for an SEM. He had no real idea where to continue without one, so he went for that instead. 'It's your lab, just enter,' he called. T'Kray came, followed by Jim and a very young woman. He looked at her in with amazement. Her stature spoke volumes, and her features eradicated all potential doubt. It was all there, from the shape of her face over the sickle-shaped fold of the inner corner of the eye to the fading specks of light grey in her irides. He had registered her name on the edge of his perception and smiled.

'Good morning, Matee. I'm Leonard McCoy, this is Spock. Nice to meet you.' He wondered if T'Kray was testing their reaction. If so, he had no idea why. Matee extended her hand to him, and he shook it. 'What's the plan for today?'

'Matee will bring you to your rooms. She will also equip you with a very useful bit of technology. That last I would have left to Charika if I could spare him today, but as it stands, I will need him. Matee knows what I require as much as anyone else, so listen well.'

'Which first, T'Kray?' Her speech confirmed Leonard's suspicion. He decided to make up his mind at last whether he found the way genetic engineering had gone on Earth a good thing or not.

'First the rooms. They should be able to use them by night then.'

'And Charika has time for it?'

'In this case he must make time. Oh, take it easy on them, they just came through the ritual.'

'They must eat before the revenge. Jim did with us, but people in the lab always forget.' Leonard was ready to swear that that Vulcan almost laughed.

'There's a tray on the table. I think they brought something over.' Matee looked somewhere between happy and mischievous. T'Kray smiled at them all. 'You might experience bouts of voracious appetite over the next two days, but it doesn't happen to everyone. Be warned. Try and eat before you get hungry, maybe that can prevent it.' She sighed. 'This entire place is a manifestation of pessimism bordering despair. Matee is the embodiment of goodness the rebellion needs. A reminder we fight for something rather than against something. Until later.'

ϡ

'Your rooms are on the fourth floor. Sorry. We figured you want them not too far apart.' Jim smiled at Matee, who was leading them upstairs. Something was wrong with her speech, he had noticed, and he wondered if that was all. He had never met anyone quite like her. Bones would know more, but this wasn't the time to ask.

'True,' he said. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bones staring at the back of her head. Sure enough, the doctor spoke to her.

'Can I ask you something, Matee?'

'Sure.'

'What made you join the rebellion?' Matee halted and measured him with a quizzical look. 'I ask that because you are one of only three humans. I'll ask the other two as well, if I get the chance.'

'They were more, but most are dead. They wanted to take the centre of the city, even when T'Kray said it couldn't work. Me, though … My father is an officer in the city. He taught me that the Vainal want to steal the planet from us. That they hunt and kill us. But that's not what I see. I see the humans hunt and kill Vainal. And make them do things they don't want to do. Things you shouldn't ever be forced to do.' Matee was indeed remarkable.

'It isn't often someone goes against all he has been taught, led merely by intuition. Have you met someone from the rebellion and they asked you to join?'

'No, James.' Avrinjù had hinted that first names were the thing to use here, and apparently that extended to humans of the rebellion, as well. Not that Jim minded. 'I met T'Kray. My father had her captured with the other humans. Those that are dead. She asked me to let her go after they'd all been killed. Said they had all been stupid – the dead ones – but she couldn't have let them go alone. I believed her because I already didn't think the Vainal are all that bad. I helped her and went with her. I saw him torturing her and it couldn't be good what they were doing.'

'Sounds plausible,' Jim agreed. 'You know T'Kray is neither human nor Vainal?'

'Sure. She's a Vulcan. You are too, Spock.'

'Indeed.'

'So there are your rooms. Now they're all standing open, but once you got your … those bracelets, they'll open to you only. Well, except T'Kray. And Avrinjù. They can go everywhere. Anyway, the rooms here all look the same. Go see, I wait here.'

The rooms were simple but larger than he had anticipated. 'If I didn't know better, I'd say we're on Earth in the 21st century. The style, the kitchen nook, everything looks like it.' Bones nodded, running a hand over a white leather sofa.

'Imitation. Yeah, technology seems to be on a similar level. Further advanced in some areas, way behind it in others.' Spock opened the drawers in a desk and peeked inside.

'Do not forget that we have no real knowledge how advanced the human population is regarding technology. The rebellion has what T'Kray is able to make along with her helpers, based on Federation data. The humans may or may not have that.'

'Does anyone know what exactly they're planning?' Jim asked. 'If we try and stop them that would be helpful.' Bones huffed, folded his arms and glared at no-one in particular.

'Well, I don't. Granted, we haven't been here all that long.' He looked into the cupboards of the kitchen nook and snorted. 'All in white. If the furnishing weren't wood I'd think I'm in a padded cell. But I've been in worse places.'

'We all have. The quarters are more than sufficient.'

'What's that thing on the wall?'

'A small computer.'

'You don't say, Spock. I want to know what it does.'

'I assume Matee will be able to explain its purpose.'

'True. Matee?' The girl's head appeared from behind the doorframe. 'What's this computer thing here?'

'Good that you ask. It's the lock. The bracelets will be attuned to it. T'Kray thinks you need Charika for that, but I've seen him do it like a thousand times. It's really easy. There are different rooms further up. They're different on every floor. Do you want others?' Jim took a last sweeping look at the room before he left. He placed a hand on Matee's shoulder.

'These will do fine, Matee, thank you. Where now?'

'The Tower. I …' Something beeped, and Matee pressed a button on the thing she wore for a bracelet. It looked a little like old wristwatches. A voice with some amount of static came out of it.

'I'm in the Tower now and I happen to have a moment. If you bring the new people soon, I can get them their Relocators.'

'Right, on our way.' She looked at them. 'That was Charika. He's made them, he's really proud of them.'

ϡ

The room in the Tower was right on top. Here at least there was a lift. The place smelled of chemicals and plastic, seemingly originating from a corner. The entire floor was one large hall with no rooms. Different areas seemed to be dedicated to different uses. There were basins that looked like the equipment in a darkroom, what seemed to be the radio station itself, and other things with purposes known only to those working here. Right now, there was only one man inside, bending over a desk littered with paper. At their entrance, he looked up. When he saw Matee, he nodded at her before adding a last quick note to the paper he was studying. 'That was quick,' he said. He looked older than her but still shy of thirty. Jim stared at his back, then looked at Bones. The doctor blinked twice, then met Jim's eye. He shook his head by a fraction. Jim nodded equally marginally and decided to add another question to the list he had for him. Bones cleared his throat.

'I'll want your thoughts later, Spock.'

'Gladly. I believe I know why. I may have an answer for your question.' Jim looked from one to the other.

'Since when have you two grown thick as thieves? I mean, it's a relief after all the bickering, don't get me wrong. Just wondering.'

'Well, bickering's still a thing, but …' He raised his arms. 'What shall I say? You were gone, and that ripped us both apart. Pathetic as it sounds, we only had each other.'

'It doesn't sound pathetic. I … I'm sorry.'

'Don't you dare apologise! It's not like it's your fault you died. God, I can't believe I'm even saying this. Can we talk about this later?' Jim squeezed his shoulder.

'Sure Bones.' The doctor offered an apologetic smile to Matee. Her expression was so sweet Jim thought she might be able to warm the entire Alms through winter. When she looked back to Charika, still bending over the desk, she rammed her fists into her sides.

'Charika, drop it, don't keep them waiting.' The young man jumped, spun round and grinned. Something was definitely wrong with him. As with Matee it wasn't something he could pin a name on, but he was very certain it was something different anyway. Actually, he looked long where she seemed stout, almost like a complete opposite. He had weak shoulders, a broad, upturned nose, his eyes were close together and squinting slightly. His speech, however, was normal.

'Right. Matee, you can tell T'Kray I've got them. I'll make their Relocators and prime them to the system. Which rooms do they have? If you know I can calibrate their computers from here.'

'Fourth floor. Er, which ones I didn't look. The first free rooms when you get out of the lift.' Charika patted her shoulder.

'Ah, brilliant. Thanks.'

'Bye.'

'What, you're leaving again so soon?'

'Yeah. There's poachers but when they're gone I've got to get an order for foodstuffs through.'

'Ah, yes, of course. Be careful.'

'Always.'

'There now. I'm Charika, I was in the altar room with you, but we didn't get a chance to talk there. I do … well. I administer the computers, among other things. I try and develop technology for us and bugs for our enemies. You need a Relocator, it seems. Any idea what that is?'

'We were not informed what it is we will be given.' Charika beamed at Spock.

'Another Vulcan. If you're anything like T'Kray you'll love this. A Relocator is a watch, a radio device with a very small range – only the premises, to be precise. It is also a key that can be adjusted to unlock specific doors according to ranks or individually. It will be more, if I get it to work. You see, the magnetic field is very strong on Dainam, and maybe I can use that and make it a kind of teleporter. I've had some success, but nothing arrived intact. I haven't tried on people. Or anything living. In case you wondered.' He had said all that rather quickly, his eyes darting from one to the other. 'Follow me.' Charika led the way to the basins. 'Extend your left arm, James. Oh, I hope you're not offended. The Vainal don't have last names and are highly suspicious of anyone using them. I've grown up with them, so I'm just as bad.' Jim did as he was told.

'How come you were raised by the Vainal?' Charika picked up a small metal container with a sluggish, ruddy fluid.

'I was raised by T'Kray. Apparently my parents decided I wasn't long for this world anyway, so they dumped me outside the town. I was found by Vainal and brought here. T'Kray decided to see how much she'll manage to teach me.' He grinned and poured two drops of the fluid onto Jim's wrist. It was warmer than the room and felt viscous. 'And now here I am.' The fluid was slowly running down. Charika took Jim's hand and turned it to make the substance form a closed ribbon. As soon as it had, he pressed the thing that seemed to be the actual Relocator against it, then he cut the ribbon at the side and placed it on the desk. 'Next.'

When all three Relocators were complete, he carried them over to the desk where he had been before. Spock observed his actions with a raised eyebrow. 'It seems he does not wish us to see what he is doing.' Jim shrugged.

'Think about it. This is his invention. He doesn't know us well enough to trust us. Bones, what's wrong with them?'

'Well, there's a huge city state full of people. They started with a few hundred. Do the math.'

'You mean they're so inbred?'

'I've seen three humans here. Two of them are severely impaired, the third … I don't know. Now I've seen those two I'd like to get another look at Minian.' Jim frowned slightly.

'Well, that's harsh. Matee has difficulty speaking, but other than that she seems fine.'

'I'm not saying she's not a good person or a valuable member of the rebellion. But she's got something more than a speech impediment. And Charika … I don't know. Not now.' Charika was done, it seemed. He brought them the three Relocators, handing one to each. They had clasps now, but that was certainly not all Charika had done.

'Now let me calibrate these to your rooms. Oh, T'Kray! I'm nearly finished.' The Vulcan inclined her head.

'I will do the calibrating in their case. I would like to talk to them anyway. And I need you to do something else. Can you create a test environment for the system in the town centre? I will need you to write a program that pretends there is an active shield. Meanwhile Spock will try and work out its properties and how to disable it.' Charika blew out his cheeks.

'Now there's a challenge. I'll get to it at once.'

ϡ

As soon as the door had closed behind them, T'Kray eyed Leonard with a challenging expression. 'Now what's your verdict? Useless, defective people? Cripples? Imbeciles? It's a good thing people like them don't exist on Earth, no?' Leonard didn't rise to the bait.

'I'm not the one who came up with the idea any development that doesn't seem ideal must be rectified. And they are not useless, nor imbeciles. Matee seems intellectually disadvantaged, but not as much as I would have thought. History may be biased there. Hell, I don't even know if my diagnosis is right. Trisomy 21 I should think.'

'You'd think right. And Charika?' Leonard sighed.

'No idea. Some other chromosome anomaly, I'd guess, but I have no idea what.'

'I don't know for certain because genetic testing is one of the few things I absolutely cannot do. After a lot of research on a dead branch of science I believe trisomy 8 mosaicism.'

'I always thought all the trisomies caused a cognitive delay. Ah, that's where the mosaicism comes in.'

'Precisely. You had an interest in medical history, it seems.'

'I never made up my mind what I think of the option to eliminate all imperfections. I tend to think people like Charika and Matee could teach the rest of us a few lessons in acceptance and compassion. You see, it's very easy to say you're not afraid of what is different if you never have to face it.' T'Kray looked at Leonard for a few seconds.

'You surprise me. I expected you to defend the position of your scientists. What about you, Captain Kirk? What do you think?'

'I think I don't understand much of what you're talking about. They seem a nice bunch. I don't care if he's cross eyed or if she's not going to join the intellectual elite. What I wonder is how many of the humans here are like them.'

'Many. Many die before they're born. They're dying out. Those that aren't disabled in one way or another are mostly indoctrinated. Minian is one of the few exceptions, but then we took him from an orphanage when he was very small. You'd think we can wait for the humans to vanish, to sit this out. Only we can't because now the humans are led by a man of extremely high intelligence. His intention is to drain the atmosphere of some of its oxygen. The Vainal need more of it than either of us, but many humans would still die, especially those that are already struggling. Trisomy 21 for example often comes with respiratory disorders. The humans, however, have shelters, rooms that are connected to the centre of the city by air vents. We, here, have nothing. For a long time the question was if Arvenig – that's their leader – would be able to put his plan into action. Since a short time before your arrival, the question is when. The answer, I'm afraid, is frightening.'

* * *

___((So just this once I give the answer in the same chapter. This week and the next are very busy indeed. You see, we're performing Mendelssohn's Elijah tomorrow and twice next weekend. In other words, I don't really have a weekend. But I'll do what I can._

_About Matee and Charika … I surprised myself with them. Matee's condition was something I had planned. Charika's wasn't. I asked a biologist if there's a correlation between inbreeding and chromosomal aberrations, and there seems to be one._

Suivez le guide _means _Follow the guide_. During this chapter I had to think of a French poem by that name, written by Jacques Prévert. Since I don't have anything better by now, this'll have to do.))_


	9. Into Thy Hands

_((It's 23:38 and I have to get up at 04:50, as I did today. Oh well. Anyway, don't expect another update before next week, as I will not have a weekend pretty much and I don't know how much time I'll have before that. I mean, I'm not saying it's impossible, just highly unlikely.))_

* * *

'The city is relying mostly on the shield as a means of defence. That doesn't mean we can just waltz up to the town centre and enter. There are patrols, and the town centre is guarded. Granted, the guards seem to act as a deterrent more than anything, but they are armed. We will get to that later. Mr Spock, your report please. If you can, in a manner we can all understand.' Jim smiled at the Vulcan, who rose from his seat and went to stand next to him. Both of them were used to talking to groups of people, but somehow for Jim facing all the Vainal – and the three humans – that were T'Kray's officers was slightly overwhelming. Spock, of course, had no issues of that sort. They had met them all during the month they had spent here. T'Kray and Minian were a constant presence, Charika was mostly in his Tower, and Matee came and went with supplies and messages. Aside from them, there were various Vainal involved in making plans, crafting things and allocating responsibilities.

'The invaders' propaganda claims the shield reaches around the entire planet. That is also what the message in previous distress signals said. However, it is confined to an area of about 500 kilometres in diameter, forming a perfect hemisphere. If you wish to know its precise properties, you can approach me after this meeting. For now it will suffice to say that particles cannot pass through it. Waves can, however. That is where beaming through the shield is highly dangerous but possible even though it is, actually a transport of particles. The reason …' Jim chuckled. Spock fell silent and looked at him. 'Yes?'

'Bones is a doctor, as he has told us often enough, T'Kray is a psychologist. I pride myself to be knowledgeable in history, military science in its widest sense, and I do know how transporters work, but besides you and Charika no-one is likely to fully understand why exactly beaming is possible.' Spock nodded.

'Very well, Captain.'

'Jim. I'm officially dead, and here I am not an officer of any description. Not that I'd want to.'

'Very well, Jim. For us, the permeability of the shield means we would be able to communicate with someone outside it if we manage to increase our range. Due to the limited size of the shield it is possible to land a shuttle on the planet, but only at a minimum distance of 550 kilometres from its centre. I would grant the 50 kilometres as potential error of estimation. A new distress signal that can be placed in the system says as much. Again, the language of the distress call is Vulcan. This time it will be placed permanently. Charika, you had time to test the program. Will you be able to monitor it from here?'

'I will once it's in place.' The human remained seated, leaning against the back of his chair with his arms folded and his legs on the desk. 'I also improved the radio signals for the Relocators. On a certain frequency you will be able to talk with each other, even outside the range of the tower, but only across a very short distance. Fifty metres at best, and don't ask me what thick walls would do to it. But the town centre is a bit flimsy anyway. Any further away you'd get very much static and it would be close to impossible to understand anything at all.'

'And the bug will work?' Charika shrugged.

'It should. That's the thing with a test environment. I can't guarantee anything. We have data, but they may have changed something significant in their system since we came by it, and then nothing would work. But we'll see that when we're there, and if the differences aren't that great I may be able to do something on-site.'

'On site?' T'Kray asked sharply. 'You're not going.'

'Like hell. This is my project.'

'Yes. You are way too important.'

'As are you. I need to go, and so does Spock. We can do this alone, he and I.'

'Actually, I believe you three should go, and I will come as well.' Jim spoke calmly, but they fell silent and looked at him. He raised his arms. 'A suggestion. T'Kray and I get you inside the building. If there is a change to the system, you two can work together and come up with something. If you can't do that within a reasonable amount of time, you get out and we leg it.' T'Kray considered.

'No. I will go inside with Spock. Charika, if you feel you must come with us, do so, but stay outside. If Spock needs you, we'll let you know, but I want to avoid sending you into the town centre. Just stand guard for us. But please stay clear of the building. I cannot risk losing you, and anyone inside will be considered a much greater threat than a man waiting outside, quite apart from being more easily cornered in a building.

'One last thing. A while ago Matee brought me bullets with poison filled tips. We haven't used them yet, and I do not like the idea, but just this once, we have to look out for ourselves. It also means none of us can under any circumstances lose our weapons. We got these bullets from the wayside poachers, and they haven't given them to the city people, nor are they planning to. For us it means, if you shoot and hit an arm, the victim will still die. It doesn't change that we will avoid killing unless to defend ourselves. And if you have to shoot, aim to kill. You will anyway and there is no need to cause unnecessary suffering. You three, get ready.' Jim and Spock headed for the exit, but Bones stopped them. He stood facing them with his head held low, holding both of them by one arm.

'This is a bad idea. Don't go.'

'We have to, Bones. You know we do.' The doctor looked up, his expression challenging.

'This isn't your struggle.'

'Leonard, you should understand. Wherever you can help, you do. If that is not enough, remember that we cannot leave. Nor can T'Kray. There is not much we have to lose.' Bones swallowed and nodded.

'Just … be careful. Please. Come back safely. Both of you. Everyone I've ever cared about is dead, you're the only ones I've left. I can't lose you. T'Kray … you watch out, too.' Jim hadn't seen her halting at his side. 'Look after them, bring them back to me.' To Jim's eternal surprise, T'Kray squeezed Bones's shoulder as she passed him.

'I will.'

ϡ

It all seemed easy enough. In and out with no-one any the wiser. Jim would wait with Charika for the two Vulcans to come back. Charika might have known more about computers, but T'Kray knew the building, and he had to agree with her that this was probably going to be more vital.

Getting them into the city was easy enough. T'Kray's haircut hid the traitorous parts of her features anyway, and hiding Spock had worked before. Jim pushed the thought that he had been found out sooner or later on those occasions firmly away.

How long they had to wait was anyone's guess, but if there was any sort of trouble on either end, the other would get a warning signal. It wasn't the first time they were on a dangerous mission, so Jim wasn't overly worried. Spock knew how to handle himself, and so did he. Keeping an eye on the entrance to the town centre, he leaned against a wall of an opposite building, Charika next to him, trying to be inconspicuous.

ϡ

Moving soundlessly through the building wasn't part of the plan. It wasn't only impossible, it would also draw more attention than quiet conversation. The town centre was a busy place, and if you came across a group of two or more people you could be certain there was a constant exchange. T'Kray had told Spock as much. After Jim and Charika had lured the guards away by breaking a window far away from their destination and pointing it out to the shocked personnel, they had darted inside, and T'Kray had started to chatter. Not about their plan, that was much too dangerous, but there were enough other topics they hadn't had an opportunity to discuss yet. And now it was Spock who pointed her to the exact thing that kept her wondering by asking if she could make use of her actual profession here.

'Indeed. Apart from the fact that I have little knowledge of leadership, it helps me with that. And when I try and outthink our enemies.' She kept her statement intentionally vague, in case they were overheard. Keeping the curiosity from her voice, she continued. 'Also, the entire so-called magic of the Vainal is a treasure trove for a psychologist. Especially the rejuvenation. I asked everyone who went through it about their night terrors, and I'm beginning to see a … a method to the madness, if you will.' Spock raised an eyebrow at T'Kray, who directed him into a narrow passage leading off the main corridor.

'You do? It seemed very illogical to me. I would be interested to hear about an underlying pattern.'

'It is quite illogical, Spock, but not without rhyme or reason. Might I know what it was you were seeing?'

'I was not seeing very much at all.'

'You know what I meant. Your experience.' When Spock didn't respond, she smiled. 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours.' His expression was so priceless T'Kray nearly laughed. 'Speaking metaphorically. I have no interest in actually seeing anything more than I do, really.'

'This is not the place for a subject of that nature.'

'This is exactly the place. We've got to keep talking. So tell me. I'll tell you the pattern if you promise to keep this to yourself.'

'You should not lower yourself to playing games.'

'I'm not playing, Spock. I am very, very curious. And a little bit confused. Or is there a reason why you keep this quiet? Perhaps because you are a better judge of yourself than Jim Kirk, who told me his and Doctor McCoy's visions freely.'

'I believe I know my own mind well enough to comprehend. But I also believe that events prior to the ritual interfered and caused me to have a vision that has nothing to do with what it should be like.'

'Who did you see? Who tried to kill you?' T'Kray waited until they reached the end of the corridor. The door was computer controlled, the panel very similar to the ones of the rebellion. Charika had found out an override command in his testing environment. If this worked, so should the rest. Bracing herself for a stubbornly locked door, T'Kray typed in the command and heard a satisfying click. It emboldened her. She cocked her head and glanced at the other Vulcan. 'We talked openly about more embarrassing and deeper things than this when we worked together. I would like to see the man I got to know back then.' Her next sentence was whispered in Vulcan. 'Who made your heart skip a beat because you knew the moment you die you would reach the absolute peak of passion?' Spock had reached for the door handle and froze in mid-movement. His voice was rough when he answered, almost tortured.

'No-one. My vision or dream was lucid and I knew it was not real. As soon as I could control it, it turned into a sensible enough conversation.'

'Who was not real? The man who cradled your very being?' Spock's hand fell to his side, and he blinked.

'If you believe I dreamed of Leonard McCoy, you are very much mistaken.' He met her eyes, and there was a fire in him that told her very clearly it was time to stop right there. But the anger remained only for a moment before it was wiped away and replaced by a serenity she hadn't seen in him since all those years ago, a levity she had searched in vain so far. He was beginning to open, a crack was already in the façade. Spock's next words confirmed that. 'It is safe to assume that this comes as a relief, I take it. Shall we proceed, or do you wish to go further into the subject?'

ϡ

They hadn't had any warning. The patrol, consisting of two armed men, had come up behind them, and for a moment Jim considered pressing the small button to alert T'Kray and Spock. But then again, that wasn't their purpose. So he stood, answering questions. Actually, Charika was answering the questions, and Jim tried to look as impassive as he could. After all, he was deaf-mute, according to what Charika had told the guards in a halting, laboured voice that didn't sound quite like him. The man was good. Really good.

And for a while it looked as if the patrol would just move on. Actually, they did, until the guards, back at the entrance to the town hall, waved them over. 'What now?' Jim asked quietly. Charika swallowed.

'I don't know. Last time no-one cared to look at the damn entrance. We've got to get them away again once the patrol's gone.' Jim shook his head.

'No, those two in there are Vulcans. They can nerve-pinch them and run. But I don't like this.'

'They're looking at us.'

'And saw me talking. We'll have to kill them if they attack. We have to move.'

'Maybe they won't.' Charika's tone indicated he didn't believe that for a moment. Sure enough, one of the patrol drew and aimed for them. A shot bellowed just when Jim had taken hold of Charika and dragged him aside. Scrambling around the building, Charika swore in the incomprehensible language of the Vainal, his own gun in his hand. He leaned over and fired twice. 'Oh no, I hit one.'

'Where?'

'I don't know. I can't look.' Jim didn't even feel irritated by the young man's lack of composure. Up until this moment, his part in the rebellion had been a peaceful one. He would get over it. The shadow announced the next man, and Jim fired after spinning Charika around with two hands so he stood against the wall, offering the smallest possible target. He cringed inwardly when he saw the blood blossoming on the guard's shirt.

'Let's get inside the broken window and head back for the main entrance. Maybe we can lose them, get a bit of distance between us and them. I'll signal T'Kray as soon as I can.' There was something warm and sticky on his left hand, but he had no time to look or think about it, so he just made a mental note to check that gun for excess oil. Charika nodded and practically fell inside. Jim followed a little more elegantly.

Their plan worked. The remaining two men fired after them through the window, and they ran. To Jim's surprise, they were fast enough. It struck him that the guards might well be so unused to resistance they had no idea how to handle it. Charika was slowing, however, and Jim helped him, bringing them both into an alley far enough away from the town centre to catch their breath. Half hidden by a doorway, Jim finally managed to alert T'Kray. Charika sagged to the floor next to him without a sound, the wet stain on his right side barely visible on the dark fabric he wore. The gun slipped from Jim's grasp as he stared at his red-stained left hand.

ϡ

'Charika's test environment was very impressive. The bug is working. It is feeding back data as of this moment, pretending the shield is active even though it has successfully been removed. Furthermore, it is almost undetectable.'

'Can it cook?' Spock looked up from the computer and to T'Kray.

'No. I was unaware that this was an intended purpose. Had I known, I would have tried to include the necessary arguments in the program.' He straightened himself and stepped back. 'If the humans do detect the bug and remove it, there is a chance they fail to do so completely. In that case, we could re-establish it after …' The signal was quiet but he fell silent. T'Kray glanced at the Relocator on her wrist and swallowed.

'Out. Now.' Again, they talked quietly, but neither of them paid much attention. They had to leave fast, as was agreed, but without drawing unnecessary attention by running. Stepping out into the sunlight, T'Kray noticed a body a few paces from the town centre. Spock must have seen it too because for the fraction of a second his steps faltered. He turned one of the small wheels on the relocator.

'Jim, do you read me? Come in please. We need your position.' The captain's voice was audible but hard to understand. Spock held the Relocator close to his ear, his expression strained. 'Affirmative. Stay where you are, we will be with you shortly. Spock out.'

'Where?'

'Across the square, into the alley between the green and the brown house, and then to the right.' He had already started walking, T'Kray less than half a step behind. Turning, she saw another body at the side of the town hall.

'They shot a guard and one man of a patrol. There must be one of each left.'

'I assume they are either searching the building or organising backup. Either way, we need to stay calm.' T'Kray couldn't agree more. These were the moments she wondered if Spock didn't have an advantage over her. He had been so wrapped into Vulcan discipline for decades, it was easier for him. She allowed herself to feel compassion, and compassion bred fear. Maybe he was not limited by this sort of emotionality. She got her answer less than half a minute later.

Spock saw them first. He staggered to a halt at the sight of Jim and Charika, the former with his hands and his shirt covered in blood. 'Jim!' T'Kray flinched at the exclamation, but he didn't notice. He had already covered the distance between them, let himself fall to his knees and slip the last metre between him and his friend. Taking his head into both hands in an incredibly gentle gesture, he looked down at the human, who placed his hands on top of Spock's. He looked even younger than he was, almost like an adolescent in the middle of an internal struggle.

'I'm all right. Don't worry. It's Charika. Look at him. He's dying.' Forcing herself to move again, T'Kray walked over to the three men, her eyes on the one she had fed at night when he was a baby, she had taught walking when he was a small child. The boy she had thought would never speak, who had grown up to be a brilliant, talented young man, as if to spite everyone who doubted him. So much blood.

'Spock?' She hardly recognised her own voice. 'Spock. Is he alive?' It took less than two minutes before she got an answer, from taking Charika's pulse to creating a makeshift pressure bandage held in place by stripes of cloth fastened with knots. Spock gathered the man in his arms and got to his feet, a hint of green on his knees from the impact with the rough ground.

'Barely. We need to get him to Doctor McCoy if he is to have any chance at all.'


	10. Here I Stand, I Can Do No Other

_((ad Leo: Freud again! The man is going to rise from his grave if we keep talking about him like that! To one question I'll give you an answer, albeit a vague one … That's because actually, I can't say – not that I would if I could. But I'm in a similar dilemma myself. I don't want Bones left as a third wheel, but I'm not at all certain I like the alternative any better (then again, I had no intention to get Charika injured like that). What his unconscious was doing to him doesn't necessarily mean he wants to go there. If he does (or if they do) it will have very little to do with the raw nature of the dream._

_The chapter heading is a quote is from Martin Luther. Although he probably never really said it._

_This was proofread at work (again), so I guarantee for nothing. And don't get used to the frequency of the updates ;)_

_Blood type 0 is a universal donor and AB is universal recipient. __I__t was handled like that in the past and still may be if there's nothing else available. But since blood transfusion__s__ (except for a blood exchange) are usually either plasm or erythrocytes only, nothing is handled like I do it here. It is, however, hypothetically possible this way and in a case of emergency it might be done. The bit about the rhesus factor is correct as well. Someone who is Rh-negative has no antibodies before contact with Rh-positive blood.))_

* * *

Four hours of surgery. Four hours that might very well be for naught. At this moment Leonard appreciated the gift of youth since it included reliably steady hands. He closed Charika's wound with thread and needle, and all they could do now was pray that he wouldn't die of a sepsis or blood loss. Under normal conditions it would have been a matter of minutes to remove the bullet the young man had caught and heal him. Here, nothing was certain, and T'Kray was waiting for news in her own quarters.

He knew she was more than eager to hear how Charika was, but first he had to change into something that wasn't bloodstained. There was no need to add to her concern – Vulcan or no. So he reached her room, two floors below his quarters, a good ten minutes later than he could have been but in clean clothes. He knocked, half expecting her to wait next to the door and open it at once. Instead, he heard her voice, just loud enough to be understood. 'State your name.' He frowned.

'McCoy.'

'Enter.' Her voice was cool and settled. When they had arrived, she had been closer to panic than he would have expected any Vulcan could possibly be. He opened the door and stepped inside. T'Kray was wearing a typical Vulcan robe and sitting cross-legged on the floor.

'If you wish to meditate I can come back later.'

'No. Please sit.' Leonard chose on one of the chairs at her desk. The room itself was similar in size to their own, only the arrangement of the furniture was different. 'What is his condition?'

'Difficult to say. I've done all I can, but there's no guarantee he'll live. He's lost a lot of blood, and that alone might be fatal. I wish I could promise you that he'll be all right by next week, but I just can't.' T'Kray rose and moved to an armchair.

'Understood. It is more than I expected. I thought you would come to inform me that Charika has died. That would have been regrettable.' Leonard stared at her.

'Regrettable? He's like a son to you.'

'He is a valuable part of the rebellion.'

'Right. And I'm expected to buy that you don't care. I hope for you that's not true.'

'Look, doctor, I understand you have done all you could. You may leave me now and rest. I shall contemplate who is able to take Charika's place if he is not able to resume it.' Stunned, Leonard rose and walked over to the door.

'No,' he said quietly. 'No, T'Kray. You're not doing this to yourself.' He turned back to her. 'You're a psychologist. You know it doesn't work that way. You can't turn off the pain.'

'I'm a Vulcan. You should know …'

'You're not Spock! And even he can't do it when things get nasty. He gets his composure back real quick, but what you're displaying isn't composure. It's the Vulcan equivalent of denial. You're doing yourself a disservice.'

'Don't try to …' He was at her chair a moment later, both hands on the armrests.

'This isn't you. I know you care! You care so much it's physically painful. Allow yourself to be scared for Charika. He's your friend, and he may be dying. You know what you should do? You should see Matee. She's dissolved into a puddle, and what she'd really need is someone who can relate to her fear for him. You can, if you just let yourself. She's one of your people. You've got to be there for her, even if it's only by showing you're not some superior creature but on a level with them, experiencing the same amount of grief and uncertainty.'

'I am not Matee.' Her voice was quiet and not as brisk as just a moment before. Leonard took one of her hands into his.

'No, you're not. But you're not a computer either.' He squeezed slightly. 'Come on.' Leonard waited for half a minute. When no reaction came, he sighed. He wanted to snarl at her, but he only succeeded in sounding weary even to his own ears. 'You know what? I don't have time for this. Because I have a patient I need to look after. That's my problem. I can't turn myself into a cold-hearted bastard. I'll do the only thing I can.'

ϡ

For a moment, Jim wondered what had woken him. He listened into the quiet of the late evening, but there wasn't a sound. 'Jim.' Spock's voice was very quiet, almost inaudible. If he thought about it, he wasn't certain he had heard anything at all.

'Spock, are you out there? Come in.'

'Your door is locked.'

'Oh. Sorry, be right there.' Wiping the sleep from his eyes he moved to the panel and opened. 'What can I do for you?' Spock stepped inside with his hands clasped behind his back.

'I apologise for waking you. Have you sustained any injuries? I wanted to ask you at once, but you seemed to evade me.' Jim smiled apologetically.

'I'm sorry. I wanted to be alone.' He walked to the faux leather sofa and let himself fall into it. 'If I'd been just a fraction of a second faster, Spock, Charika would be all right. I saw that guard draw, and I reacted, but I simply wasn't fast enough.'

'Jim, do not blame yourself. Charika knew it was dangerous to go into the city and watch T'Kray's and my back. He insisted.'

'I wasn't fast enough.'

'He is not yet dead. Our doctor is one of the best in the entire Federation. But you have not answered my question.'

'What question? Oh. No, I told you in the city I'm good. You know, they got only one clear shot at us. One.'

'Would you not call it bad luck, Jim?'

'Since when do you believe in that?'

'I believe in an unfortunate combination of circumstances that were outside our control. I know that your reactions are very fast for a human. If you were too slow, there is an excellent chance there definitely was not enough time for anyone to stop what happened.' Spock sat next to him. 'I feel that I need to apologise to you.' Jim blinked and stared at him.

'You travelled through half the galaxy to get me back. I'm … I'm speechless about what lengths you're ready to go to. What on earth would you apologise for?'

'I never told you how glad I am that you are well.'

'There are many things you don't give voice to, but I still know them. I know emotions are difficult for you to have in the first place, let alone speak of them.'

'T'Kray reminded me that was not always the case. I had forgotten it, but she is right. When I was younger, I was much more like her. I changed my mind a few years into the academy.'

'But you changed it back. You did acknowledge your human half eventually.'

'I am not cut into two separate beings, Jim. I am one man with two aspects. Both of them are capable of emotion, but only the human part can handle them. Which is why I need to be careful, maybe more than T'Kray. What is human in me may lure me into believing I can allow myself to feel and make it more likely I lose control.'

'And all that I know and understand.' Jim shifted, pulling his left leg under him. 'I have no idea where you're going with this.'

'I want to ask you a question.' Jim opened his arms wide and smiled.

'Fire away.' Spock rose and faced away from Jim.

'Can you still hear me?'

'What?'

'Can you still hear me, Jim?' Frowning, Jim got to his feet himself and walked to the Vulcan. He wondered if he should be worried about his friend. It was a very strange thing to ask.

'Of course I hear you, I'm not deaf.' Spock looked at him.

'Because I am not speaking.' Jim stared up into the deep, brown eyes, a thousand questions chasing each other in his head. Not a muscle had moved in Spock's face. Not even his lips.

ϡ

Leonard slammed the jar on the table in the lab, hard enough to make a racket and gentle enough not to break it. 'Do as I say, Minian.'

'How do I …'

'I'll direct you.' Leonard slung a strip of cloth around his left arm and pulled it tight with his teeth.

'It just … sounds wrong to do something like that.'

'Damn you, T'Kray's done it to a dehydrated patient before, only with water. I'll need what she used for that, by the way.'

'She had bags made for the water. I know where they are. They had an outlet that …'

'I know how infusions work. Now get over here with that vial. If you can't do it I'll manage myself, but it's that much easier for you.' Minian swallowed and approached. His hand holding the needle was shaking. 'Oh no, you don't. Not like that, thank you very much. You've got to get a grip, man. You've done more difficult things than that.'

'This is suicide!'

'Nonsense. I can live with a litre of blood less, but Charika won't. Give that here.' If Leonard hadn't been so irritated, pushing a needle into his own arm would have cost him more of an effort. The blood started to flow at once, and he leaned back in his chair. 'Well, this is going to take a while. You can …'

'Are you out of your mind, doctor?' T'Kray's voice was no longer cold and detached but distinctly angry. 'What do you think you are doing?'

'What does it look like?'

'How do you even know you can donate blood to him? I know I can't test for blood types.'

'Guess what. I know mine. It's zero. I can donate to any human. Well, almost. You've never done anything of the sort to him, have you?'

'No! How could I?'

'Well good. Then his rhesus factor doesn't matter either. Only the second time round you should find that out. If he's negative he can't receive blood from someone who's Rh positive a second time.'

'Just how much blood were you planning to transfer to him?'

'Three quarters of a litre minimum, given his state. Look. I'm a healthy man. If I get a few days rest I'll be fine. If you're worried, ask Spock and he'll verify that. It's the only thing I can do.'

'Couldn't you just … mix his blood with that of the other humans and see what happens?'

'Not clear enough. Are you trying to help me by making me angry so this goes faster? It's working.' T'Kray swallowed.

'Minian, go.' The human seemed happy to leave, and Leonard rolled his eyes. 'You scared him.'

'That's ridiculous! It's not like I threatened him.' T'Kray shook her head.

'You act like a madman, what do you expect? Did you even explain to him why this would help?'

'I didn't have time for a lengthy explanation about blood transfusions. Charika's skin was ice cold when I checked on him. He'll never open his eyes again if I don't do this.'

'Tell me why you can donate without testing.' Leonard shrugged.

'Apart from the fact he has nothing to lose? Because his blood won't fight mine, simply speaking. He'll have some reaction unless his blood type is also zero, but it won't kill him. If he's lucky there'll be no reaction at all.' T'Kray nodded slowly. 'The rhesus factor wouldn't matter at all if I were negative. If he's negative and receives blood from me now, he'll develop antibodies that would not allow a second donation. But the first time is safe.' T'Kray glanced at the half-full jar on the table and shook her head. She took the wad Leonard had prepared and pressed it against his arm before removing the needle.

'This will do. I'm not letting you take a litre of your own blood. You wait here, I'll prepare the transfusion.'

'You know how?'

'Yes, that I know. I simply wouldn't have dared without testing because I never cared about human blood types. Stay seated. I'll help you to your room when I'm done.'

'I'm fine.'

'Maybe. But I'm not risking you fainting on the way. Quiet now. You won the last argument, but this one's mine.'

ϡ

Jim was on the sofa, wide awake, staring into the growing darkness. Spock was sitting beside him, waiting patiently for him to come up with whatever questions he wanted to ask. Not that he knew which one to voice first. 'How?' was all he managed.

'How did I know, or how did it happen?'

'Both.'

'I know because I heard your call in my mind. I did not hear you any more after we reached here, probably because you were getting weaker. However, when you were outside the building today, I experienced a moment of confusion when you and Charika were first attacked. You see, I felt threatened, even though I had no knowledge of what was happening outside.'

'And how did it happen?'

'That I do not know. Nor can I tell you when or why. I am not entirely certain about the nature of the link. It is not a permanent feed of thoughts. You, or rather your unconscious, were much more vocal before our arrival. Now I only receive from you when you are very tired or under extreme pressure. Even then, you convey nothing more than brief impressions, less than an image. I also had to concentrate to allow you to hear my thoughts. I feel compelled to tell you that it is not something I intentionally created and it eludes me how I failed to notice it. It must have been there for a while now.'

'Shouldn't a link like that have been broken by my death?' Spock considered that for a moment.

'Not necessarily. A permanent link between two minds is created by each mind leaving a trace of itself inside the other. When you appeared here on Dainam, you had all your memories, and apparently a piece of your mind remembered it was with me. As to the origin of the link, my best guess right now is that our comparatively frequent mind melds had that consequence.'

'All of which happened before you died. And you had practically no memory of the past after that.'

'A temporary side effect of the fal-tor-pan. I recall everything now.' Jim smiled at Spock, trying to look into himself and detect … something. He failed magnificently. There was nothing there, no presence inside his own mind like during a meld.

'Well, I think it can be very useful. Imagine all those times we could have communicated without words.'

'I believe a part of our mutual understanding can be explained by the link. I do, however, recommend to remove it.'

'Why? It can't hurt me.'

'Actually, it can, and I am surprised it never has. T'Kray as a Vulcan and a psychologist will be able to help.' Jim blinked and put his hand on Spock's arm.

'Look, I don't think this is necessary. Apparently this isn't something new, and it's so … so slight it doesn't backfire in any way.'

'You plan to use it Jim. That will change the link, deepen it to a level you would not want and that would create a very serious problem for you in the future.' Jim nodded slowly. Indeed, Spock wasn't one to talk about his own feelings very much. But it was clear that he was uncomfortable with the link.

'All right. I will talk to T'Kray tomorrow. I will ask her if she can … break that link.'

'Remove it, not break it. I would prefer to talk to her myself.' Jim snorted.

'Knock yourself out. But I'll ask too, because I wouldn't put it past you to trivialise potential risks to yourself. And I have a feeling you're not saying all you know. Well, be that way. I'll get my answers elsewhere.'


	11. Dorsum Nudum Fero Tui Sceleris

___((This fic has developed a life of its own. It's a lot darker than I had planned, things happened I never intended, I have no idea if Charika's going to make it, and Bones hijacked the entire thing almost completely. I had planned none of that, but I'm quite happy with the status quo._

_I'm also having half a mind to turn this into a small series which would have four parts – you may guess what they would be called. If I do I predict a chapter headed Estuans Interius._

_This here chapter heading is taken from the Carmina Burana, roughly translated it would mean "I offer my naked back to your malice". It's not as bad as it sounds, but it fits (in the weird, slightly twisted kind of way my mind works) and so far I don't have anything better. Seeing how my search for a better one hits the 36 hour mark this moment, I doubt I'll come up with something.))_

* * *

Leonard felt like he had been eaten and spat out again, there was no better way to describe it. He was freezing, sick, and his heart was racing – that last was all too familiar, but this time he knew it would go away. And on top of it all, he didn't even regret it. He looked down at the petite Vainal standing in the door at an hour he was tempted to call night rather than early morning. He recognised her as one of the manufacturers in the tower. She seemed slightly intimidated, but many of the Vainal did when they were faced with humans they didn't know all that well. He decided it was only that and not that he looked as horrible as he felt. 'Yes … ah … you were Nareel, no?' She nodded. 'So … look. I'm really tired. Can this wait?'

'Yes, it sure can, but Spock said to tell you immediately that the glass is ready.' For a moment he was lost, then he slapped his hand to his forehead.

'Of course! Yes, brilliant!' He licked his lips and blinked the exhaustion from his eyes. 'Bring it all to laboratory, please. Is the microtome ready?'

'It is, we'll bring it over.'

'Thank you. Thank you so much!' He shut the door in Nareel's face and ran to the sink to slap cold water into his face. He tried to persuade himself that it helped. When he was done he walked to Minian's door and knocked.

'Who's calling?'

'Leonard. I … came to make a request. And to apologise.' The door revealed a frowning Minian.

'Come back to your senses, have you?'

'I had never lost them. But I wasn't fair to you. I did what was necessary, but I shouldn't have dragged you into this the way I did.'

'What do you need now?'

'Just a second person in the lab to see I don't pass out.'

'You should rest.'

'The microtome's finished. I can prepare the sections, and I want you to see what I'm doing.' He smiled. Imagine that. I ask Spock for a complicated enough device, and he sees it's done in no time at all. But the microtome takes ages because they can't seem to get the glass right.' Minian sighed and led the way to the laboratory.

'Glass?'

'Glass. No steel is as sharp as freshly broken glass. But you can't just grab a jug and slam it to the floor. Anyway, these ingenious Vainal in the Tower managed what Spock didn't and made me the glass for the microtome.'

'They're good at crafting things. Better and faster than any human. I'll never get how they let themselves be conquered by a handful of humans.'

'Imagine a planet full of people with a soul like Matee.' Minian sighed. 'Did you see her?'

'T'Kray went to find her after she left Charika. She loves him like a brother. She often looked after him when he was little.'

'But she's a lot younger … Oh. Wait. Ritual. This has still got to get into my head.'

'Yes. She and I are older than Charika. Poor lad. Any idea if …' Leonard shook his head.

'I don't know. But I gave him a fighting chance.' He lowered his voice to a whisper. 'Tell me … what was T'Kray like later last night? Did she … did she let on that she was concerned?' Minian smiled weakly.

'She sat with him for hours. I went to check at one point and asked her if she didn't want to go to sleep. She said she had to monitor his temperature and if it fell she needed to get you.'

'She's got a point there. Since she didn't come I take it his temperature was stable.'

'Apparently. For all I know she's still sitting there. Creepy. She wasn't moving, just staring at him like she was trying to will him to wake up.'

'He's young. If he recovers, he'll do it quickly.' Leonard entered the lab and saw the microtome in a corner. He beamed at it. 'Now look at that beauty.'

ϡ

The hand in hers was cool, cooler than her own, but not unnaturally so. The many, deep creases in its palm were a mark of his condition rather than age, including the single fold spanning its entirety from digit to pinky. A part of her was proud that she wasn't cracking after letting her carefully built up guard down just that much. Enough to go and find Matee, sitting in the altar room, rocking herself and screaming out her fear. T'Kray could relate to the emotion Matee gave voice to, but she allowed herself to hope. Unless the not quite sterile conditions in the infirmary interfered, there was a chance that Charika would live. The stability of his temperature indicated there was no internal bleeding, which was a good sign. The biggest risk was an infection.

Allowing herself a sigh, T'Kray rose and walked out of the room. She didn't need to go to sleep, but she would rest her mind after 15 hours of vigil. On her way, she closed the door to the lab, which stood open by a fraction. Only when she had reached the first floor she made up her mind to look who was inside. It could hardly be anyone but Spock, since McCoy was certainly sleeping, and Minian had nothing to do there at this moment.

The figure slumped in the chair wasn't hard to recognise. The momentary pallor of his skin in combination with his lean build made him look like a spirit. She saw from the door that he was breathing and realised that for one horrible moment she had thought it had all been too much for his human body. She approached slowly and squatted beside him, sorting out what she felt. Gratitude was one thing, mixed with admiration and relief. 'Doctor, wake up,' she said quietly. There was no reaction whatsoever. T'Kray reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. 'McCoy.' He jumped, nearly toppling the chair over, for a moment confused. 'This isn't a very comfortable place to sleep.'

'No, indeed, not comfortable at all.' His dialect was more pronounced than usually, or maybe his speech was slurred from sleep. She wasn't entirely certain. 'Where'd Minian go?'

'Probably went away to give you rest.' McCoy huffed. His eyes fell on the SEM and he smiled.

'I got it, you know. I had my suspicions, but now it's definite. The cells of the Vainal contain sugar, some more, some less. That's why only some are affected by the Evicar, the acid released destroys the cells. And the fruits undo that effect. It's really easy to screen them before letting them mine. Some can do it safely, others can't. Would take nothing more than a biopsy and ten minutes to see if they're safe. If they're not, you can give them prophylactic treatment with an isolated substance from those fruits. What on earth do they need the Evicar for anyway?'

'I believe it's what they'll use to drain the atmosphere of oxygen.'

'Some osmosis type process? I wondered how that could be done. Seems as good an explanation as any.' He frowned. 'What time is it?'

'Noon. You should eat something and go to sleep.' McCoy sighed and nodded.

'I should. I got here before sunrise. How's Charika?'

'Seems stable. I don't know how to thank you.'

'Not at all. It's my job.'

'You are a brave man.' A slow smile spread on the doctor's face.

'Trying to keep pace. T'Kray, I will go and have a bite now. How about you?'

'I … why, yes, I'll come with you.'

ϡ

'There you go.' T'Kray placed a plate full of food before McCoy, watching his reaction intently. He and his friends had stuck with food they could recognise, but this time she had insisted he let her serve him something. Her own dish was similar but for one exception.

'You're bringing me meat?'

'I know you like it. And it will do you good after your stunt. It comes from an animal similar to a hare. I wouldn't know what it tastes like, but the people seem to love it.'

'So despite allowing yourself emotions you stick with being vegetarian.'

'I do not reject Surak's teaching, Doctor McCoy, I mere choose to interpret it differently.' He studied a vegetable that resembled a tiny pear. With a slightly sceptical expression, he tried it.

'Interesting. In a good way, mind you. Humans are cowards that way, you know. Anything that looks odd is regarded as though it could lash out any moment. No matter if it's food or a person. I hate people like that, and then sometimes I see that I'm no better.'

'You are. Self-reflection is something not everyone can do and remain honest.'

'I don't like lies, not even those I'd be tempted to tell myself. This tastes really good, T'Kray, what is it called?'

'The meat comes from a Tirakal, the beans are Morflees.' Doctor McCoy shook his head.

'Ah, well, that's not their fault.' They ate in silence, watching people stream in and out of the Alms, carrying in empty plates and bringing full ones to the tables in the peristyle or to the two other buildings.

'I want to get out of here,' T'Kray said when they were finished. The admission came as a surprise even to herself. 'I've been here so long that I thought I wouldn't leave if I had a chance, but I fooled myself. Talk about denial.' She paused, but McCoy seemed to know she wasn't quite finished and waited patiently. 'Your arrival, your eternal optimism that there will be a way out … All that brought back my wish to just …' She shrugged, and looked at him as though he had the answer.

'Go home?' he offered quietly. For a moment, she wondered if that was it: homesickness.

'You could say that, but where is that? Vulcan? Considering how long I've lived, I've spent only a short time there. I went to Starfleet Academy because I wanted to see … so much more. And now I'm marooned here. I want to go back to the fleet. I want to serve on a ship, as I had intended. When I finished it wasn't often ships had their own psychologists. They usually picked a doctor who'd gone into psychology a bit, but that's it.'

'That's because many psychologist choose to stay on earth or a space station. Very few want to be on a ship. I know a little something about psychology, I took all classes Eeg offered simply because she was so brilliant. But there were times on the Enterprise where I would have given … well, maybe not my right hand, but a finger for a good psychologist.'

'Eeg was impressive.'

'Yeah. Tiny, wrinkled woman, when she entered, there was silence. That was a personality. And she's why I knew who you are. She always told us to read your thesis.'

'And you did?'

'Not as a student. But then, a short time into our five year mission, guess what happens? Our Vulcan loses it, nearly kills his captain, and there I am, unable to do anything. So when it was all over, I contacted Professor Eeg. She told me she was sorry, but it was forbidden to duplicate things from the library.' He smiled, but it looked slightly sad. 'Less than a year later, I get a message from her, saying to look into the federation data on psychology for your essay. It was there, with a short afterword from Professor Eeg. She was ill, had only a little time left, and nothing to lose. So she published your essay to the science platform on the sly, with a dedication to someone called Varees.'

'Varees was a Vulcan linguist, about Eeg's age, and the contact person for all students that weren't from Earth. She died when I was at the academy. I wasn't aware they knew each other. I really want to get back out there. I'll tell them that. I'll go back to the academy, catch up, and go out into space.'

'Our eternal optimism seems to rub off on you. You know, I might do that, too. I tried leaving Starfleet behind once and it didn't work. I miss the travelling.' He stifled a yawn and T'Kray tutted.

'Time for an afternoon nap, I should think. I'll check in on Charika.'

'Yes, nurse T'Kray. I'll be good.'

ϡ

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly between seeing to Charika from time to time, scheduling patrols and including herself in one for the late afternoon the same day, and setting the Tower personnel to work on steppefruits to extract the active ingredient according to what Doctor McCoy had scribbled onto a piece of paper in the morning. Spock had taken over Charika's post at the radio station for a moment, keeping an eye on the computer to see if their bug was detected. So far, it didn't seem so. Captain Kirk was training a few of the Vainal. The three men took a lot of pressure off herself and her officers.

Just before leaving for her patrol, T'Kray went to see Charika again and found him opening his eyes when she sat down beside him. He didn't speak, but when she took his hand he squeezed back, and she told him quite firmly that she needed him alive and he had no business dying. Maybe the nod she got in response was just her imagination, but she was ready to swear she was beyond such self-deception.

Still within shouting range from the Residence, T'Kray heard her name being called. When she turned, she saw Spock and Kirk heading her way, and she let go a breath she hadn't known she was holding. If anyone came to tell her that Charika had slipped away it would be Minian or McCoy. 'T'Kray, do you have a moment?' Spock asked when they reached her.

'That depends. If you want to join me on the patrol, get yourselves armed and we can leave. Else I'll go alone.'

'Is that wise?'

'In the vineyard, it's all right. Hurry or wait.'

'We'll hurry.' To their credit, they did. Leading the way, T'Kray picked an almost leisurely pace.

'Any news on Charika?' Kirk asked tentatively, and T'Kray smiled.

'I am allowing myself to be cautiously optimistic. He had a moment where he was conscious, or close to, so maybe he'll recover. I know, however, it doesn't need to mean anything. But I'm sure you didn't come here just to ask me that.'

'No. I … We need a Vulcan.'

'You've found one.' When they didn't elaborate, T'Kray halted and looked at them with folded arms. 'Talk to me. I'm not going to play a guessing game.' Spock seemed to steel himself before he spoke.

'There is a link between our minds that is not supposed to be there. I require you to remove it.' That statement was interesting in itself. A mental link didn't just snap into being. Kirk continued before T'Kray had a chance to answer.

'And I require someone to explain to me why Spock believes it must be severed.'

'Maybe you should tell me about the nature of the link first. I would guess you noticed it because it brought you here, Spock?' The Vulcan nodded, and T'Kray continued walking. 'If you didn't know it was there before that, it is fine enough to be removed without causing either of you pain, I assume. I am not certain, however, why you want it gone.'

'I believe the Captain wishes to use it. And even if he agrees not to, in an emergency, he would.'

'And chances are I will be lightyears away, the link will deepen, and in an unknown number of years you will enter pon farr. And then James Kirk is going to pay the price while you can see you are taken care of, be that on Mount Seleya or on Argelius II.'

'That was … my general reasoning, although I would not have put it so bluntly.'

'The question is, _can_ you sit it out? Because I don't believe so. Not if the link deepens.'

'I do not know. That possibility is but one more reason to remove the link.'

'But this isn't just about you, is it? Do you want the link removed, James? No, Spock, let him answer.' She hadn't even consciously used his first name. She had probably been here for too long. But if she was going to discuss something of this nature with the man, she was certainly not going to call him Captain Kirk.

'I don't mind either way, I didn't even know it was there.' Again, T'Kray halted and turned to face them. They had reached a path up a slope now, the vineyards visible not far away. The wind was blowing in her face, her distinguished eyebrows and ears for once revealed.

'Close your eyes. Look inside yourself. What I want you to find is probably not very substantial, just a sense of security … maybe even of something that isn't quite a natural part of yourself.'

'There is … and this is going to sound foolish … a warm place where I can go when I am uncertain. Like a refuge that shields me from guilt and fear.'

'If you allow me to meld with you and guide me to the place, I can tell you if that is the link.'

'I allow you.' Checking that her own shields were firmly in place, T'Kray placed her fingertips on the melding points on Kirk's face.

This meld had nothing to do with her short contact with his mind when he was unconscious. It had been wild and chaotic, scared and fierce. There were hints of these emotions now, as they probably were in all humans. But now, it was a lot clearer, calmer, and very focussed on one place deep inside. T'Kray followed the path laid out for her and found the link. She had expected as much.

What she had also expected was that Spock was the origin, that during a meld he had somehow made a mistake and attached himself to James Kirk. But that wasn't the case. The way it seemed, both minds had reached out towards each other, forming this connection unanimously, albeit unbeknownst to the two men. T'Kray tried to prod the place with her mind, but thin though the link was, it sat very firmly in the human's mind. She pulled back from the meld and realised she had been smiling.

'Curious.' She swallowed. 'Spock, do me a favour and go back to the Residence. I wanted to see if Doctor McCoy is all right before I left, but it slipped my mind.'

'Why would he be unwell?'

'He didn't tell you what he did? I wondered. He gave blood to Charika, more than I'm comfortable with.' Spock had the grace to look concerned, but mostly he looked sceptical.

'I believe this is not the real reason.'

'It is a good reason, and I would really ask you to see if he requires anything or if he's wandering about when he should be resting. But you are right. I wish to speak to your Captain alone. I will, of course, not do anything that concerns both of you in your absence.'

'I ask you to allow me to remain.' T'Kray contemplated his request.

'Why?'

'I believe that I have a right to hear this, since my mind is involved as well.'

'Sometimes the logical answer is the wrong one, Spock. Go back. I will see you when I return.'


	12. Run Ye Souls Whom Care Oppresses

_((The chapter heading is in honour to my next project with the choir, now that Elijah is behind me: St. John's Passion by Bach..))_

* * *

The few hours of sleep had done the trick. Leonard felt better, certainly not tired, and generally more positive. He decided to go and see Charika, figuring he was a better judge of the situation than Minian could possibly be. When he reached his room in the infirmary, he heard quiet talking from inside. He knocked but didn't wait for an answer before he entered. It struck him that at some time he had started to treat the infirmary like his sickbay. That the thought made him miss his time as CMO confirmed what he had said earlier.

Matee saw him, jumped up from her chair, and ran towards him like lightning. She flung her arms around him, hugging him so tightly he gasped. 'You saved him! He's awake, you saved him.' Smiling at Charika over her head, he hugged her back before extricating himself from her embrace.

'I did my very best.' He walked over and pulled up a second chair. 'How are you feeling, Charika?'

'I'm slightly cold and still aching where I was hit. But that's all. I know I was shot, but I don't know how I got here. That worries me.'

'Perfectly normal. Both, actually. You've lost a lot of blood. Is there any other pain? Itching? An ache in your lower back? Anything else you think is odd?'

'I'm hungry, but that's it. Why?'

'Just making sure I didn't do more harm than good. Matee, would you mind bringing Charika some food?' The door opened again and revealed Spock, who raised an eyebrow at the sight that greeted him.

'Should you be up, Leonard?' He shrugged and tried an innocent smile.

'I've slept quite enough. Charika's awake, see?'

'And asked for food, I heard. I can bring something, if you prefer to stay with him, Matee.' The woman nodded eagerly, and Leonard smiled.

'Very considerate of you, Spock.'

'Why did he think you should be resting?' Charika asked when the Vulcan had left. Leonard growled.

'Because I donated blood to you. But he's making way too much fuss about it all. It wasn't that much.' Now he thought about it, though, he wondered if he wasn't feeling worse than he should. If T'Kray hadn't interrupted him, it would be all right to feel the way he did, but she had stopped him much sooner. He wasn't a weak man. It was something to consider. Right now, however, he had to examine Charika to see how he was doing.

ϡ

They had walked in silence until they were far into the vineyard. Jim was half grateful – the slope had been more exhausting than it should have been. He made a silent pledge to listen to Bones this time and keep himself fit. T'Kray halted and turned. 'Look around, James, you can see the Tower from here.' He did as he was told. 'Further up you can make out the city in clear weather. I've been there, but I do not recommend the direct route. The indirect one is the path where the fields are. This place is surrounded by a dense forest – dense enough to be a very bad path. The poachers have their home in there, which is why we don't bother keeping an eye on it. Further on, there's a cliff. We patrol until there before we return.'

'T'Kray, as much as I appreciate the vista, that's not why you sent Spock away.' She smiled at him.

'No, indeed. Let's continue, then. I have a question for you. What is Spock to you?'

'He … he's my best friend. He's my brother.'

'Interesting choice of words.' The Vulcan's eyes were resting on his face as though trying to read more out of his expression. 'Do you know a bit of the Vulcan language?'

'No. Spock told me once how to say live long and prosper, but I can't pronounce it.' T'Kray's smile grew more prominent.

'No, I don't assume you can. Spock all but confirmed my suspicion why he wants the link gone. He understands it more fully, but he refuses to tell you. Now I have no such qualms. I will tell it all and tell it true. If you so desire, I will inform him on our arrival back at the Residence that I explained the repercussions of a link like yours and that you agree to have it removed, without letting him know exactly what it was I said to you. Or you can go and tell him that the link stays.'

'He seems to think it's dangerous for me.'

'Not just for you, but him as well. According to what your doctor said, you know what pon farr is.' Jim shook his head. At the surprised look on her face he laughed.

'Sorry, I know. But I don't understand what one has to do with the other.'

'Vulcans are deep, James. I am very certain you know that. We do not engage in one-night stands. Many do not believe in intercourse unless they are willing and able to reproduce. Some people that know about the Vulcan seven year itch think it's the only time our males are able to have sexual contact. Some think they all but rape their bondmates during that time. So many myths, so much nonsense …'

'I'll never get why the sex life of a species seems to be the most interesting thing to so many.'

'I'll second that. A first marriage on Vulcan is arranged, you know how these work. A second one is a choice, and it's very rarely a fever-driven accident. I wouldn't know of a single such case. There are other methods. If push comes to shove, there are the women on Argelius II who know how to quell the flames. Or the priestesses on Mount Seleya can put you into a trance and keep you alive until it's run its course. That, however, only works if the Vulcan in question is really and truly free of a bond, like Spock is. Otherwise, they cannot soothe him. A bonded Vulcan needs his bondmate, needs the mind of the other as much as the physical release. A bonded Vulcan separated from his mate during pon farr is bound to die. Because even though there is an ever-present connection between the two, at that time, it just isn't enough.'

'I still don't get it.'

'I need you to understand the potential for catastrophe above anything else. A Vulcan who remarries doesn't do that because it's a necessary evil, at least most of the time. They do that because they've found a matching mind. The rest doesn't matter overly much. We don't go for looks, we go for what's in someone's head, for character and intelligence and mutual understanding on a level I cannot explain in your language. A mind meld can establish very quickly if our specific requirements are met. I will now ask you a question. You do not have to answer. If you don't or if you say no, we can go back and tell Spock that I am ready to remove the link. But I would have you be able to make a choice.'

'Ask already.'

'James, have you ever been with a male?' Jim nearly tripped over his own feet and stared at the woman. For once, her face was as unreadable as any Vulcan's. He struggled for an answer, contemplated refusing to speak, then realised that would be childish.

'I … yes. But that was very long ago and I don't see how … Wait.' He raised his hands before him. 'Wait, are you saying this is that kind of link?'

'It isn't any specific kind of link at this moment because it's very thin and therefore indefinable. But when I hinted that with the link deepened Spock might not be able to receive help from an outsider or a priestess, he didn't deny it. That is as much agreement as we can expect. Do not mistake this for a stupid college-boy crush. You two are extremely close. For him it is logical to reach for the mind most compatible to his own. Apparently, that is you. His body would merely follow where his mind leads.'

'His mind. Since when is something of that nature a decision of the mind?'

'When I say mind, I mean everything that isn't physical.'

'Is he even able to love?' Jim swallowed, shocked at his own question. T'Kray looked at him mildly.

'Yes. And you know that, I'm certain. What I'm asking you now is, do you wish for me to remove this link, or would you rather talk to him first.' He nodded, then realised that didn't make it any clearer to her.

'I want to talk to him.'

'I'll give you a few things to think about first. A full bond to a Vulcan is nothing like a marriage. It means you will have to learn to shield yourself, because no matter how much you love someone, you'll want some privacy to your mind. It means you cannot ever step out on him without causing him immense pain, even with his own shields firmly in place. In other words, it means he'll place his well-being completely in your hands – the hands of a human. If you contemplate going there, be sure. There is no way back out. There is no middle ground. If you give yourself to him, you must do so completely, body and soul, and you will receive the same in return. That can be very beautiful. But you have to be absolutely certain, without the smallest shred of doubt, and so must he. Otherwise you need that link gone fast.'

ϡ

Matee was evidently happy. To her it was obvious that all would be well. Leonard wished he were as certain. He watched them both closely, laughing and joking. But something wasn't right. That Charika wasn't at the height of his physical strength was one thing, but Matee was breathing faster than she should. He exchanged a glance with Spock. 'Question. Do you feel weird at all?' He talked in an undertone, trying not to be overheard.

'Negative. I assume you mean something specific.' Leonard's gaze rested on the woman.

'I do. She's got trouble breathing. She's either sick, in which case she can't be here, or there's something very wrong. Because I know myself quite well, Spock. I shouldn't feel so down.' Spock watched them for a full minute before he spoke.

'Charika. I would like to know if and how you monitor the oxygen saturation.' Charika blinked, lost for a moment.

'Huh? Oh, sure I do. In the Tower. There's a panel at the radio station, the one we use to look in on the bug. Setting 47.' Spock left wordlessly, leaving Leonard with a nagging feeling in his gut. Pushing it firmly from his mind, he continued watching his patient.

'Now that Spock's interrupted you for a moment, might I take your pulse?' Charika offered his arm willingly. Again, Leonard could only estimate, but the one thing he was certain was that it was too fast. 'Well, that's to be expected,' he said more to himself than them. 'Tell me, both of you, do you notice that you're short-winded?'

'Yes, but I'm not ill. I always had that, but T'Kray says that's normal.'

'What's normal by your definition?' Leonard frowned. 'Has that grown worse recently?'

'I told you I'm not ill.' Charika stared at him. He took Matee's hand and squeezed it.

'That's not what he means. Are you out of breath faster? Like when you go to the poachers.'

'Maybe, yes.' Charika covered his mouth with his hand.

'It's started. Someone needs to alert …' The clangour of a bell interrupted him. 'Yeah. Bless him. The Vainal know what to do.'

'And us? What do we do?'

'We can hold out longer than them. We wait and shepherd them off to the safe rooms.'

'You're not shepherding anyone, you stay put. Matee, you go to the safe rooms too.' She rammed her fists into her sides.

'No way, I'm helping. Where to, Charika?'

'You, safe room. Like he said.'

'No! Then I go to the Alms.' Matee darted past them both and out. Charika reached from his bed and grabbed Leonard's sleeve.

'Can you get people down here from the Residence? If we notice the effect maybe some of the Vainal have already passed out.'

'What about you?'

'Spock will come back here from the Tower, I assume. He'll bring me over.' Torn, Leonard stood motionless for a few seconds. 'Go already! If I must I'll crawl over, it's not that far.'

'See you there.'

ϡ

'James, are you quite all right?'

'Yeah. Just a little bit out of breath. Odd, I was in good form when I was that young.' T'Kray stopped abruptly. She cursed herself for forgetting even for a second. The thing to blame was her fear for Charika, that much was certain. Not for the first time she wondered if she had been wrong all along, if in order to be able to use her mental faculties effectively she had to control every shred of emotion, quell it until it was nothing more than a spectre at the edge of her perception.

'No.'

'No?' T'Kray blinked.

'I apologise, I was answering my own question. James, do you find your way back on your own? Because I've got to run.'

'Yes, sure I know the way.'

'Good. You hurry, and when you get back to the premises go straight to the safe rooms.'

'What? Why?'

'I think it's started. They're draining the air of oxygen.' She looked at him. 'Get back safely. Good luck.' With a last glance to make sure he had understood, T'Kray started to run. For her, the oxygen saturation was still quite enough for her breakneck speed. For the Vainal it might already be dangerously low. Matee, McCoy, and Charika might very well be threatened too. She needed to get back there fast.

The first thing T'Kray noticed was that someone had had the sense to sound the alarm. For a moment she was uncertain where to go first, but then she obeyed her intuition and chose the infirmary. Charika's room was empty, so someone had brought him away, hopefully to safety. She pushed a button on her Relocator. 'Spock, come in.'

'Spock here. I have evacuated the Tower and signalled Minian to look through the Residence. I brought Charika to the safe room. I cannot find Doctor McCoy or Matee and they do not respond to my signal.' She heard Spock's voice approaching and sped out into the corridor again.

'Thank you. I will look through the Alms, I believe Matee could be there. You find McCoy.'

'Where is Jim?'

'On his way, I sent him directly to the safe rooms. Once you find McCoy, bring him there and stay inside. I'll be there shortly.'

ϡ

The Alms, normally busy, was deathly silent. Listening hard for signs of life, T'Kray checked every room very quickly without finding anyone until she reached the altar room. Matee was there, leaning against the wall opposite the door. 'Matee!' T'Kray crossed the short distance and knelt beside her, shaking her. There was no reaction. She took her wrist and found a weak but present pulse. Gathering Matee in her arms, she turned. Outside, she saw James entering the Residence and followed quickly.

The safe rooms were crowded and buzzing. That was a good sign. For a while they would have oxygen, but they were bound to run out of it eventually. Charika was on one of the armchairs. T'Kray chased a Vainal out of another and placed Matee in it. 'Someone find Minian,' she called into the crowd.

'Can we close the passage?'

'No, I know two people that are still out there. Just keep the lock tight.' Charika was asleep, and T'Kray couldn't get herself to wake him. 'I've got to go out again. I'll come back in a moment.'

* * *

___((Yes, I know this is a bad place to end this chapter, but I limit myself to a certain amount of words and I would have more if I continued here. I promise I'll continue as fast as I can.))_


	13. Bleed On, Dear Heart

_((I don't know what it is with me and Bach right now. So this is an aria in St. Matthew's Passion, and it fits so perfectly I am tempted to say go listen before reading. The translation of the lyrics would be 'Bleed on, dear heart. Ah, a child that thou raised, that sucked at thy breast, threatens to murder its guardian, for it has become a serpent.'_

_The philosopher I mention is Marcus Tullius Cicero. Lawyer, politician, and philosopher, highly underestimated by history and the one historical person I would like to see in action if I were offered a ride in a Police Box.))_

* * *

The plan Leonard had when he scoured the Residence was simple: Work his way up from bottom to top, find any Vainal that might be there, and … well. That was where his wisdom ended. Try and drag anyone he found downstairs to safety. If he could save one of them, it would make a difference for that individual. So far, luckily, he hadn't found any of them. Granted, most Vainal worked in the Tower. At this time the residence was quiet. Those in the infirmary would be rounded up by Spock, no doubt.

He felt his breath getting shorter, but he had to continue. It wasn't like he was about to collapse. Forcing his legs to keep moving, Leonard reached the fifth floor. He wasn't going to make it to the top and back down, not in his current state. And for once, he decided, he would look after himself: Even if he did find anyone much further up, he wouldn't be able to help. He could only sit down next to them and drift into blackness. He wasn't quite ready for that. A resigned voice in his head muttered that he wasn't fooling anyone. He wouldn't stop.

There was a sound from a room at the end of the corridor. Wasting no energy for a shout, Leonard ran inside and collided with someone in there. He stumbled, nearly fell. Whoever it was wore a cloak and was clearly not in such a precarious state as he was. He found himself shoved inside violently before the door was pulled close and locked. He was on his feet a second later, holding his Relocator against the computer. Nothing happened. Leonard let his arm fall at his side and stared at the door. 'This is it, then,' he said to himself. He tried to breathe evenly, but he was beginning to feel dizzy, and there was an echo to every breath, as though his diaphragm tried desperately to get more air into his lungs. Not a good sign. He spun around, looking for an escape. The obvious choice would be the window, but there were bars before it. A safety measure T'Kray had taken even so far up. 'Not like I could have survived jumping.'

A sense of hopelessness spread in his chest, the leaden silence adding weight to it. Desperate for something to do, Leonard checked the other rooms. He found a dead Vainal in the bedroom. The skin was grey with all hints of blue gone. The cause of his death, however, was not oxygen deficiency. There was a clean cut in his throat, grey blood staining the white carpet and the poor soul's hands. 'What the hell happened here?'

He was getting tired. And it wasn't the kind of tired he had felt after his blood donation. He hoped desperately that Charika would make it alone, because he certainly would not be there to help any more. He let himself sink to the floor and closed his eyes.

Something woke him. How much later it was, he had no idea. Not much, since he was still alive. Trying to stand up, he realised that even this little effort was more than he was able to do. 'Leonard! Leonard, answer me!' Spock's voice came from not quite far, certainly this storey. He tried to shout back, but only a quiet rasp came out his mouth. With the desperation of a man who had nothing to lose, he crawled to the chair. He pulled himself up on it and shifted his weight to the backrest. He crashed to the floor with a satisfactorily loud sound. His action was rewarded by quick footsteps, then silence. He was just about to hand himself over to resignation when he heard T'Kray's voice from outside.

'Spock, what are you doing here? We must find Doctor McCoy.'

'I am trying to find a quick way to break this door.'

'No need. Override by T'Kray.' The lock clicked, and the door opened, revealing the two Vulcans.

Spock was inside first. Without any questions, he cradled Leonard in his arms and lifted him like a child. 'Are you with us Leonard?'

'I don't know, I might be hallucinating.' His own voice sounded strange to him, barely above a whisper.

'I am quite real. You can cease fighting sleep. You are safe.'

ϡ

'Then why was it locked?'

'Because someone did not want him found.'

'Are you saying that this was an attempt to kill Bones? Why? He's never hurt a soul in his life!'

'Are you all sure he's fine? He's been out for so long. He can't die, too. It's been quite enough.'

'The problem is that he is the doctor. My ability to help is limited. He is, however, asleep rather than unconscious, I believe. I do not wish to wake him.'

'But … just so I get this straight. He's in bad shape because he gave his own blood to me?'

'Yes.'

'Then can't I give him some back?'

'There's an excellent chance you'd kill me with that, but thanks for offering.' A heavy silence followed his words. Three faces appeared in his field of vision, all worried. 'What the hell is going on?'

'We are in the safe rooms, Doctor McCoy. Spock carried you.' T'Kray's tone was similar to the one he used for patients. It was rather annoying, really. He decided never to do it again and sat up.

'Ah … yes. I heard something in one of the rooms, and when I looked someone locked me inside.'

'You wouldn't know who?'

'Someone that didn't want to show their face.' He scrambled to a sitting position, suddenly alert. 'There was a body in there. A Vainal. Murdered.'

'We will look as soon as we can leave here.'

'And when will that be? Just how long can we wait here?' Leonard made a wide gesture that included everyone in the room. 'We're all going to die in here!' T'Kray caught his hands and sat beside him. In the glum light her pupils were so dilated her eyes seemed black.

'It's time you start thinking straight again. I'll put this unrefined rant down to your physical condition, since it doesn't seem your usual standard of complaining. Remember what I told you all? We knew there would be a test run, but we expected it a few weeks from now. This is a matter of hours.' T'Kray put his hands down into his lap. Feeling like a fool, Leonard looked away. The Vulcan reached over and squeezed his shoulder, letting her hand rest there. 'We're running out of time, yes, but don't act as though we're all dead already. A philosopher from earth once said while I breathe, I hope. I do not wish to meet his fate, but I have made these words a personal mantra long ago.' Leonard swallowed.

'What was his fate?' T'Kray's mouth twitched.

'He had his head and hands cut off and exhibited in the forum.' Despite himself, Leonard smiled.

'Well, I agree with you then.' He frowned and looked around, finding Charika resting on a sofa. 'Charika, are you all right?' The young man shook his head.

'No. I mean, yes. I'm good.' Shaking off T'Kray's hand, Leonard walked over to him.

'Anything wrong despite the obvious … other than being tired and all that we said before.'

'I'm good,' Charika repeated. 'Oh, Nareel, census done?'

'Quite. Everyone accounted for except Minian.' T'Kray took in a sharp breath.

'No, I refuse to believe we've lost him, too.' Leonard's head swam and he hurried back to where he had been lying. He looked at Jim, who came over at once and sat down to his right.

'What is it, Bones?' he asked in an undertone. Spock sat on his other side.

'Question, Spock. You worked with Charika a lot. Do you know what people's security levels are?'

'T'Kray and Avrinjù are level one. Charika is level two. The other officers are level three, and the rest of us four. Each can override those below at any time.' Glancing over at T'Kray, still going over details with Nareel, he lowered his voice further.

'Someone locked me in there, Spock. I didn't fail to get out because I lost it, but because someone wanted to keep me inside.'

'Since Charika was in the safe rooms, that leaves only the other officers. I do not know which ones were here at that time.' Jim raised his hand.

'No, we don't. But we know that most of the officers are Vainal. They're not shifty.'

'Matee's not a Vainal, but not shifty either.' Leonard caught his friends exchanging a glance. 'What?'

'Bones, what did you want to say?' Looking from one to the other Leonard folded his arms.

'I wanted to float the suggestion that maybe Minian was never T'Kray's to lose. But right now …'

'That has occurred to me as well, doctor. I would, however …'

'Shut up. What are you two not telling me?' Spock merely pursed his lips. Jim closed his eyes for a moment before looking directly at him.

'Matee's dead, Bones. T'Kray brought her here, but she didn't make it.' Leonard watched Charika out of the corner of his eye. It explained the lost look on his face and what had been said before. 'T'Kray said she's struggled all her life. When they did the ritual it was to save Matee, who had some severe form of asthma.'

'Then T'Kray just bought her time, hoping to get away?'

'I think so.'

'So who'll break it to her that she's been betrayed after all, and God knows for how long?'

ϡ

T'Kray sat as rigid as a statue. Her hold on her control was tenuous at best. She had half expected to be betrayed at one point, but somehow she had always thought it would be a Vainal that succumbed to the promise of safety. Her humans, she had been certain, were completely dedicated to her cause. Now Matee was dead, and if things had run differently and Charika had turned on her, McCoy would have been locked inside without a chance of anyone getting him out in time. She didn't doubt for a second that he could manipulate her override command.

If she allowed herself to distrust him as well, she might as well go out there and offer herself and the entire rebellion to the humans. What she didn't get was why Minian would do anything of the sort. He had been so young when she had brought him here. There simply hadn't been enough time before that to teach him to hate the Vainal. In other words, he was much less innocent than anyone else out there who had grown up with these lies. His had been a conscious choice.

A rage so deep welled up inside her she struggled. If he had been there she would have killed him with her bare hands, she would have closed them around his neck until she felt the life leave his body. Balling her hands to fists, T'Kray stood next to Charika. 'How long before we can leave?'

'Nine hours, T'Kray. Listen, this is horrible, but if he still has his Relocator, we can find him.' Good. She needed a plan, something other to focus on than her fury.

'Wouldn't that be the first thing to get rid of?'

'Depends. If he's a double agent, as I suspect, he'd keep it and try to get information on us.' Charika looked grim and determined. 'If we do this, I want to go too. I want him dead.' T'Kray understood him and shared his feeling, but somehow hearing her own thoughts from someone else's mouth cleared her own mind and helped her find back to reason.

'Me too.' She pursed her lips and took a steadying breath. 'But we cannot become like them. It's what I've said all along. We will look for him, bring him back here, and give him a trial. He will not be court-martialled and shot.' Charika rose to his feet, groaned, and sat back down again.

'I want him dead. I want him to pay. For Matee, for Leonard, for all this.' T'Kray shook her head so fiercely he fell silent.

'Listen to yourself! Leonard is all right. Matee's not his fault, nor is the fact that we are here. Chances are he's dead anyway. And if he isn't, we'll find him. Don't forget what I've been preaching all these years. We are not fighting against someone, we fight for someone. Minian may have betrayed us, but there is also a chance he was unfortunate enough to be out there and there was an intruder in the Residence. Don't condemn the man before he had a chance to defend himself.' For a moment, T'Kray thought Charika would protest, but then he deflated visibly. Content for the moment, T'Kray retreated into one of the five separate chambers off the main room. She needed to meditate.

ϡ

Somehow Leonard hadn't really believed they would all just sit still and wait. He had watched T'Kray vanish through one of the doors. Before that, the High Priestess had left through another one. He had no idea where they might lead, but he assumed there must be storage rooms and facilities somewhere as well.

There were many things none of them knew – how they had enough breathable air down here was just one of them. Charika might know the answers to a number of them, but he was struggling with his grief for Matee. Her body had been brought away into a separate room, and Charika kept staring at the door with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

The real problem, however, was that they were a large group, and slowly but surely, there was a rising panic. When a few of them started to consider opening the airlock, Jim did what came naturally for him. He stood on a chair and raised his arms into the air. 'Listen to me! All of you!' He waited for the buzz of voices to abate, and only now Leonard realised how loud it had become. 'This is not entirely unexpected, is it now? The way we are all acting one would think this comes as a surprise.' He let his arms fall to his sides. 'We knew the test run would come. Yes, we thought it would be weeks from now, but would that have changed anything else?' He looked around, his eyes resting on Leonard and Spock longer than the rest, as if he drew strength from the fact his friends were here. 'Charika, I have a question. How will we know that it is safe to leave? You said nine hours. Why?'

'An educated guess. But the controls in the Tower monitor the oxygen saturation. Once it's higher again, the bell will call and we can leave.'

'Good. Are there questions any of you need answered?'

'Are there going to be soldiers outside? If we were betrayed, who says that we won't all be killed as soon as we poke our heads outside?' Spock's answer came faster than Jim's.

'When T'Kray and I came here, we could feel the lack of oxygen outside the airlock. No human can move effectively at the moment. If Minian did betray the rebellion, he is struggling with the effects himself. If his condition is less than ideal, he may die. One thing is certain: He cannot round up an army.'

'I still can't breathe right! We don't have enough air in here.' The voice was panicked and shrill.

'Charika?'

'We have air for 24 hours and one hundred people. Don't worry about that. This will only be critical once they start the real thing.'

'What if this is the real thing? What if they tricked us into believing there is a test?'

'I have monitored broadcasting in the city for over a month. The human population has been informed there would be tests, and that they would receive only a few hours' notice before they had to get to safety. No one here intercepted this warning because after our return from the city I couldn't listen to the incoming data, and I couldn't tell Spock all the frequencies either. It is an unfortunate coincidence.' He rose, leaning against a wall to support him. The pain at the movement showed on his face for a moment, but he swallowed it quickly. 'I never wanted to share these crude details with all of you, because I saw no need. They are testing how far they can go. They put people, Vainal and humans that have fallen from their grace, out into the streets and wait for them to die. They will monitor how long it takes for whom to pass out and die and draw their conclusions on how they can effectively kill Vainal and make sure there aren't many human casualties. That is why I am certain it is but a test. Next time around, they will drain the air away for a much longer time. The hardier humans will do what must be done outside their own secure places, the rest are kept in shelters. It will last for two weeks to make sure all Vainal are dead.'

'Where is T'Kray?' Jim looked around and failed to find her. Leonard rescued him.

'Went through one of those doors.'

'Smaller cubicles if you want privacy,' Charika supplied. 'She, too, is upset by what has transpired and I assume she is meditating.' Once the general attention was back on Jim, who answered questions and tried to re-establish calm, he lowered his voice and spoke for Leonard's ears alone. 'She's been in there for quite a while now. Go and look, please.' Leonard wanted to protest, but Charika forestalled him. 'She told me once that she can detach herself from her emotions. Now I should think faith and hope are emotions too. If she loses either, we're done for.' Leonard rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was a throbbing ache somewhere in the back of his skull.

'Charika, I haven't got half her knowledge about psychology, even if I know quite a bit for an old country doctor. If I try and psychoanalyse her I'll make a fool of myself.' Charika gave him a pleading look.

'She needs someone who's not going to lose it any moment. I don't think I can pull that off right now. Please, Leonard.'


	14. Not Enough

_((Chapter heading is, for a change, not Bach! I consider that a success. It's another song, though, by Delain. I must say, I am again tempted to tell you to go listen. It fits, and it doesn't even need translating._

_Leo: Well, I share your observation *hem hem*. (Yeah, you'd think it's up to me, but sometimes I feel more like an onlooker than someone who has actual influence on what's happening. And yes, this is one hell of a cheap excuse!)_

_Bimm: By the time I post this chapter, I will hopefully have remembered to change voice to tone ;) McCoy is a work of art, really. We wouldn't want to alter him, would we, now?))_

* * *

She heard the door open but kept her eyes shut. 'Not now, Charika.'

'I'm not Charika. And I wouldn't let him wander about like that either.' Her concentration broke completely and she sighed.

'All hell breaking loose out there?' McCoy stood with his back against the door, his expression worried.

'We've got it under control.'

'Then leave.' He looked stung but didn't move. 'Why did you go after me?' The doctor shrugged, his expression defiant.

'Charika asked me to. You told him all about Vulcans and how they aren't supposed to feel it seems, and now he thinks you're going to kill your compassion.'

'I'd rather stop myself from feeling murderous.' She listened into herself, asked herself what she would do if it turned out Minian was indeed a traitor and on her hands. She still wasn't certain she would be able to control herself. 'I always told them when we finally manage to be free, we will not wholesale slaughter the human population. That we would contact the Federation and see that they send help. But what do I do with a man who is not someone that can hardly help himself because he's been taught hatred for all his life?'

'You find out if things are the way they look, then you decide. Do you have a … a law for the rebellion?'

'It was never necessary. I don't have a rulebook that covers betrayal.'

'What he did would warrant his execution in very many systems. I don't know about your laws, but I know how Vulcans think about destroying life, and I agree with that. So if you ever find Minian, you should hear him out and learn the truth.' He smiled vaguely. 'Now I'll go and tell Charika that you're not going to emerge as a computer. I'll leave you alone.'

'I was rude to you before. It was uncalled for.' McCoy waved her not-quite-apology away.

'You merely reminded me that you are indeed a Vulcan, not a pointy-eared human. You need some peace and quiet and you were candid. Just know you don't need to carry all the weight alone.'

ϡ

At the chime of the bell, they had cautiously opened the air lock and found it safe outside. Matee and the Vainal on the fifth floor of the Residence would be cremated for a lack of a graveyard. Avrinjù and T'Kray obviously considered it their personal responsibility to see if anyone had been further upstairs. Bones was down in the infirmary, making sure everyone who felt off was fine. It was really more to calm people's nerves than anything else, but he humoured them willingly.

Jim found himself before the door to Spock's room, hesitating even to knock. Before he could make up his mind do either that or walk away, the door was opened from the inside. 'Your thoughts are quite loud, Jim. Please come in.' With an apologetic smile, he followed the invitation.

'That bad? I mean … could you read exactly what I was thinking?' Spock offered a ghost of a smile. He stepped aside and let Jim enter.

'Not quite. I merely got the idea that if I were to open this door I would find you contemplating it. I take it you and T'Kray discussed all that was necessary. Is she going to remove the link?' Jim sat in Spock's sofa and leaned into the soft backrest.

'She offered to, if I wanted that. She also told me what it would mean to leave the link in place.'

'Did she tell you that you could die?' Jim shot Spock a quizzical look.

'She did. And like I thought, she told me that I could harm you, too.' He rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly afraid of what reaction he would trigger. 'She asked me what you are to me. She asked me various other things and hinted more. She told me …' He looked up at the man who had been his first officer and his closest friend for so long, and suddenly the tension left him. He wouldn't be judged. 'She told me that Vulcans choose their … bondmates differently than a human chooses a spouse. She reckons the link might turn into something like that.' When Spock started to talk, he raised his hand. 'No, I don't … I don't even want to know your answer. She told me how much is at stake for you, and I … I refuse to wait for you to tell me why this is a bad idea. We will remove the link and be done with it.'

'Is that because you want it, or because you do not trust yourself?' Jim swallowed.

'I would actually trust myself because nothing in this world could ever make me risk hurting you. But I … How do I say this …'

'You do not wish to share intimacy with another male. I understand.'

'No, actually, you don't.' Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim.

'I have only ever observed you with women.' Jim snorted.

'The way you say that one would think I did little else.' The look on Spock's face said plainly what he didn't give voice to. 'Right. The thing is, women are much easier to come by without getting a reputation I don't want. Women don't talk that much.'

'I am not certain if that is true. However, I am aware that you used your charm as a means to an end as often as not. In that vein, not all of your … conquests are relevant.'

'That, too. Anyway, I haven't even begun thinking that far, Spock. I'm still stuck at the mental thing.' He raised his arms. 'It's very simple. I won't ask because I'm certain you'd say no, and you'd give me a hundred perfectly logical reasons. But in the end, I'd be left thinking that _you_ don't think I can be faithful, maybe even that T'Kray got something wrong and I'm making a complete fool of myself right now.'

'Neither is the case, Jim.' Spock pulled a chair over to the sofa and sat opposite him. 'I think you are very well aware of your strengths and weaknesses. It is one of the things that make you an excellent Starfleet captain. I am not certain if you always know what you want. I can assure you that I trust you absolutely and that T'Kray was not wrong. We stand at a crossroads. I do not doubt that whichever direction we choose, we will walk a major part together. All we have to do is decide which is the right path for us.'

ϡ

'Doctor McCoy!' Leonard pointedly ignored the urgent call and smiled at the Vainal.

'You're good to go. If you still feel nausea or dizziness after a good night's sleep, please come back and I'll see what I can do.' The Vainal seemed happy with that solution and left. In his place, T'Kray rushed in. There was grey blood on her hands and clothes. T'Kray followed his stare and shook her head.

'That's nothing, just the victim in that room upstairs. But …' She cast a glance into the corridor behind her and shut the door. Sitting down on his desk, she stared at a point behind Leonard. 'Minian … and I'm sure it was him because it must have been an officer … Minian sealed the sixth floor. There were nine Vainal trapped up there. Nine. And after he had shut you into that room it seems he went back and locked himself in with them.'

'Is he dead?' T'Kray shook her head by a fraction.

'Not yet. I have taken his Relocator and I will lock him in. And I want to question him.'

The man was groggy but awake when he was shoved inside the infirmary by three Vainal. Avrinjù followed behind with an icy expression. When he saw Leonard, his eyes grew wide. 'Guess what, I don't die that easily.' Minian looked from him to T'Kray. For a second, his expression was defiant. Then his shoulders slumped and he started shaking with silent tears. T'Kray wasn't impressed.

'Put him into a chair.' The three Vainal did as they were told. The High Priestess tore her cold gaze from Minian.

'We need answers. I shall organise a trial.' T'Kray nodded at her.

'Thank you.' She approached the human and bent over him. 'You are a dead man, Minian. It's up to you to make this painless. Tell me why you did it, who you work for and since when.' Minian stared up at her. He was clearly scared, and for that Leonard couldn't blame him.

'Give him a moment.' T'Kray glared at him.

'He tried to kill you!'

'Someone did. I for one don't know if that was him.' He filled a glass with water and brought it to Minian. It was hard to believe that he had wanted him dead. 'There you go.' Minian took the glass and spilled almost half of its contents before taking a sip.

'Th...thank you. I am … I am so, so sorry!' T'Kray looked ready to strike him down then and there before she closed her eyes for a full ten seconds.

'Did you lock McCoy into that room?' Minian merely nodded. 'Did you kill the Vainal inside it?' Another nod. 'Did you condemn everyone further up to death by stopping them from getting to the safe rooms?'

'I never wanted anyone to die!' T'Kray nodded.

'Of course not.' Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. 'What did you expect would happen?'

'I just wanted to delay them. I thought I'd have more time. I'd have helped them.' T'Kray blinked, confusion chasing away the disgust.

'Why would you … Minian, you do realise that doesn't make any sense.'

'I wanted you to see how bad it all is. I thought if they struggled enough you'd act.' Leonard closed his eyes and sighed. T'Kray merely shook her head.

'That is the most stupid excuse I've ever heard.' Leonard looked down at the breaking man in the chair.

'I don't think he's lying.' He took the now empty glass from him and put it onto a table. 'You thought the rebellion isn't as effective as it could and should be. So you wanted to force T'Kray's hand. You wanted to frighten her, coax a reaction out of her. Then you were caught and panicked, killed that Vainal. I came along and you just … got me out of the way. The only thing I don't get is why you went upstairs. You could have run on to T'Kray and Spock, they'd gladly have helped you to the safe room.' Minian licked his lips.

'I … I panicked. It struck me that … that they'd all die, and you too. And I just … I don't know how to live with myself.' Leonard's eyes went wide.

'Ah, you threw the silver coins into the temple and went off to hang yourself.'

'Wh... what?'

'Never mind. T'Kray, I suggest we put him into a holding cell, if you have one. You can await your trial there, Minian.'

'I don't want a trial. I'm a traitor. Do as you must.' He wanted to sound resolved, but his voice was feeble and shaky. Whether that was from fear or regret was hard to tell. T'Kray took a deep breath and manoeuvred away from Minian. She opened the door and gestured to the three Vainal outside.

'Bring him away. See that he cannot escape. And keep him away from any trees.' The Vainal obeyed, leaving the two alone. Leonard watched her cautiously. She was no longer struggling, her hold on herself seemed quite firm.

'Well, if you can make a joke like that, I assume you're composed enough. What will you do with him?' T'Kray stared at the now empty chair.

'I don't know. He deserves to die.' Leonard nodded slowly.

'I believe he might, but I don't want to be the judge of that. Nor the executioner. That's another thing. If you sentence him to die, who will do it? Charika? He'll do it if you order him, perhaps with some satisfaction. But when that glaring anger leaves him, he'll hate himself for it. You? Avrinjù? Or are you going to ask me for some gentle, merciful poison? For I certainly won't do it.' T'Kray looked almost shocked.

'I'd never ask you to take a life.' Feeling suddenly bold, Leonard reached over and put his hands on her arms. He realised that he had done almost the same thing just one room down the corridor the first day he had spent here, only in a very different manner.

'Then don't ask it of yourself, either. You're walking a fine line with that Vulcan discipline already. Truth now. Have you ever killed anything?' T'Kray swallowed.

'No.'

'Then don't start with someone you care about. You're righteously angry, but killing him won't make that better. God, who am I kidding? You know that! Look at me, T'Kray.' Slowly, the Vulcan turned her gaze from the floor to his eyes. 'I'm not saying that you can forgive and forget what he did. But don't kill him. Please. For your own sake.'

'We'll find another way to deal with him, then.' Leonard felt her relax slightly and allowed himself to do the same. 'I'm taking my leave from you. I need to talk to Avrinjù.' She took a step backwards, then tilted her head and smiled. 'Thank you, Doctor McCoy.'

ϡ

A part of her wanted to curse McCoy into next week. The nerve of him, a human surgeon, telling her, a Vulcan psychologist, how to deal with her anger. But he was right. She doubted she would have gone all the way and made someone execute Minian or, even worse, done it herself. But she would have pushed in that direction, for the moment convinced it was what she wanted. His words had made her think about how it should be done and by whom, and she didn't have an answer for any of these questions. Instead, there was an alternative. An obvious one, really, but one she hadn't even considered before now.

She had contacted the High Priestess, asking that she come down to the infirmary. Against his own wish, Charika was still there. McCoy wasn't quite willing to let him go yet, insisting that the flight to the safe rooms might have done some damage to his fresh wound. T'Kray had been more than willing to agree. If she let Charika go back to his own quarters, he would no doubt try and resume regular work. When Avrinjù arrived, T'Kray started without preamble.

'We have Minian.' Charika straightened abruptly. 'He's now under observation. He admits his betrayal. I don't yet know if he gave information to the humans. He was beside himself with guilt.' Charika snorted.

'Scared is more like it.'

'I'm not certain. Judging from what he said, he didn't want anyone to die. Not Leonard, not the poor people trapped upstairs. He doesn't want a trial. I wanted him executed, but I was set straight about that.'

'By Leonard, I take it. What if he's a traitor too? He's a human.'

'As are you,' Avrinjù reminded Charika calmly.

'Yes, by Leonard. But aside from being a physician, a man who has dedicated his life to helping and protecting those in need, he's a Starfleet man, and what is happening here goes against everything Starfleet stands for. I trust him and James. Spock as a Vulcan goes without saying. Anyway, there is a very sure way to find out the truth. I will ask Minian to allow me to meld with him. If he refuses, I will assume he lied. If he allows me, I will see.'

'You could be misled by him.' T'Kray smiled at the High Priestess.

'By a Vainal, yes, but not by a human. Their mental defence is practically non-existent.'

'Please do the same with the other two humans. You may trust them, but after recent events, we need more than our intuition and our wish to believe in our friends.'

'I had very close mental contact with James only a short time ago. I am certain of him.'

'Then do it to Leonard.' For some reason, the thought scared T'Kray.

'I'd rather not.' She shuddered. 'His mind is very chaotic. I noticed that in the brief meld before the ritual. And there was quite some fear in him. He would never have allowed it if his friend's life hadn't depended on it.'

'Of course there was fear in him. His friend was dying.' T'Kray tried to remember the impression she'd had and shook her head.

'That, too. But mostly, he was afraid of me, of someone intruding into his very being.' Avrinjù pursed her lips. Her expression was uncharacteristically hard.

'Only more reason to take a good look at him.'

'In that vein, you are welcome to see if I'm sincere.' T'Kray stared at Charika, then at the High Priestess.

'I have no doubts about you, Charika. If Avrinjù does, let her try your soul. I will not insult you by demanding proof. It's bad enough that I have to do it to Leonard. I tell you what. If he's even remotely uncomfortable with this, I refuse.'


	15. Right Is and Remains Eternally Right

_((I feel very guilty about this chapter heading. It's from a Bach cantata (BWV 150; Lord I long for you). I have a feeling the next one (or one in the very near future, where what's nagging at Leo will be answered once and for all - and while finishing this chapter I've finally made up my mind about the matter myself, so here's to that) will also get a Bach quote. Oh, well.))_

* * *

Minian, T'Kray reasoned, would be first. He would either refuse or the meld would be simple. His guards wanted to enter with her, but T'Kray refused. He was no match for her.

A meld like this didn't contain words. It was much deeper, much more intimate. The Vainal, she had been told, with their superior telepathy, were able to lie through their thoughts. A human could merely struggle against a telepath pressing them, but Minian didn't. He was open to her probing, allowing her to search him very thoroughly. Her findings left T'Kray close to tears that were not her own after she broke from Minian's mind. 'I do not know what to do with you,' she said to him at last. 'How could you, Minian?' She didn't get an answer, but then again, she hadn't expected one.

'I knew when it would happen,' he told her in a voice heavy with emotion. 'I had an informer.'

'What did you trade for that knowledge?'

'I promised I would withhold the information from you and see that none of the leaders survived the test. I did the former. The latter, of course, was out of question.'

'Anything else you know?' T'Kray asked without much hope to hear something useful.

'In ten days Arvenig will address the people in public. He'll announce their ultimate victory or some such. He'll be on the town square. Shoot him with those bullets of Matee's and run. He's the one you can't get rid of save by killing him.' T'Kray looked at Minian, saw the fervour on his face.

'Don't you think I know that?' She rose and walked back to the door. 'You could have tried to trade this information for your freedom, Minian.'

'You could have forced it from me in the meld.' Despite herself, T'Kray smiled.

'I will not forget it when I decide what to do. If what you said to me is true, and I will find a way to verify it, you can be sure I will take it into account.'

When T'Kray didn't find McCoy in the infirmary, she was half relieved. Though she admitted it unwillingly, she felt very apprehensive about this. The Vainal in attendance sent her to the peristyle. She found all three men there and decided this was a good time for breakfast. 'Would you mind if I join you?' she asked when she had collected what food she wanted. James smiled.

'Be our guest.'

'Thank you.' She decided to get the most difficult matter out of the way. 'Doctor McCoy, I apologise in advance for what I am going to ask you. This isn't my wish, but Avrinjù insists that I verify your … your veracity, if you will.' McCoy stared at her.

'My veracity? I get why, but how?'

'With a meld. I told her I saw James's mind close enough, but yours I didn't.' McCoy let his hand with the spoon sink.

'Does she realise that this isn't a cakewalk for you?' T'Kray picked a piece of fruit from her plate and contemplated it.

'No. I mean, I told her that, but she cannot understand it. The Vainal have no real concept of privacy. They like sharing. I let her know that I didn't, at least where my mind is concerned, but it is just something she cannot comprehend. Imagine someone would ask you not to speak to them because they find your talking intrusive. You wouldn't understand. Neither does she.' She cut the fruit in half and removed the stone with the knife. 'I told her if you refuse I will not do it.'

'I admit that I don't like it. I like to have my mind to myself.' He took a deep breath. 'Truth is, I'm scared to death of what you people can do to someone's head. But I'll let you. I don't believe for a second you'd try and mess with me.'

'I wouldn't.' She looked over to James and Spock. 'Will you require my assistance?'

'It seems unlikely.'

'You have to be certain. Take your time.' Noticing the puzzled expression on McCoy's face, she smiled and picked up her plate. 'I will be taking that with me. Doctor, if you would meet me in the altar room when you're ready. At least we have privacy there.'

ϡ

Leonard watched her go with a pensive expression. 'What was that about?' He saw his friends exchange a glance and folded his arms. 'There's something I don't know, isn't there?'

'I think this is a very bad time, Bones. Ask again when T'Kray's done with you.' Leonard huffed.

'That's really comforting.'

'Why are you so worried about a meld with her, anyway? I always thought this is worse for the Vulcan in question.' Leonard shrugged. He felt Spock's gaze and glared at him.

'Say it already. Tell me you told me so.'

'I see no reason to state what you already know. But you can let her do what I offered. Let her help you. You can trust her no less than me.'

'It's not that I don't trust her. If trust was all it took, I wouldn't feel like that, because I'd never have refused your help.' He frowned. 'What do you need her for?'

'Probably nothing,' Spock said. 'And you know a part of it. I heard Jim in my mind. The reason for that is a mental link between us. It is not like the concordance of your and my mind after the fal-tor-pan but an actual connection.'

'The concor... what?' Spock raised an eyebrow. 'Look, for me this is all Vulcan hocus-pocus. That you two are linked somehow was clear from the moment Spock said he heard you, Jim, but why's that a problem?'

'It isn't a problem. It would be one if we'd deepen it without knowing what we're getting ourselves into. Then T'Kray would have to remove it.'

'Deepen it to what exactly?' Again, there was an exchange of glances. 'Spill it.' He folded his arms. 'Is this where I am shocked to discover that there's a potential for something more than friendship between you?' Jim smiled the most innocent smile he could muster. Not that Leonard bought that. 'Look, you're both my friends, so I'll be honest. I think this is a very, very bad idea.'

'Why, if you guessed yourself what this is about?'

'Simple, Jim. You're impulsive, you're hungry for love and life, and what's worse, you have no clue about Vulcan … social … things.'

'Vulcan social things, Bones? You don't sound like an expert.'

'I'm not. But I know how dangerous this is. Not for you, Jim, for him.' To his credit, Jim was serious by now.

'I know. T'Kray told me quite thoroughly. Do you know so little of me to think I'd risk hurting Spock?' Leonard raised his hands.

'No. No, I don't think that. Spock … make sure he knows what he's doing. You both deserve this, if it's what you really, absolutely want, Jim. But you must …'

'I must be certain,' Jim interrupted him. 'I know. Now go to your own Vulcan.' Leonard cringed at the reminder. So much he didn't even protest.

ϡ

The door to the altar room stood open. T'Kray had her back against the large wooden structure, her hands folded before her, forefinger and middle finger stretched and the others interlaced. When McCoy entered, she opened them, flexing her hands. This would be difficult. 'Close the door. You do not need to do this. You can refuse.' McCoy's face was set.

'No. You need proof, I understand. I'm … as ready as I'll ever be. Just tell me how deep precisely this meld will be.' There was no point in lying.

'Rather deep. But you will be able to feel where my probing goes. I will be very cautious not to touch anything you do not wish to share. Please sit on the floor. Just to be safe.' McCoy did as she asked.

'T'Kray, something else. Do you think what Jim and Spock are doing is wise?'

'I believe they are not … doing anything yet, Doctor. They are considering, making up their minds. I am certain we shall know when they have decided.' She pressed her hands together. 'Are you ready?' He licked his lips and nodded.

'Like I said.' His eyes closed when she touched his face, and it wasn't with pleasure. She reached out to him and was not rejected outright. That was good. Trying to get deeper into his mind, however, she met resistance. That wasn't too unusual for someone who wasn't family. T'Kray waited, tried to push as gently as was possible, and for a moment she thought she would get through. Then something deep in his mind flared, sending waves of an emotion close to panic through him. There was something very substantial about that sense of fear. It wasn't just the unknown he dreaded. T'Kray retreated.

'This … is not going to work.' She swallowed, making sure her thoughts were her own.

'I told you I don't like this.'

'And I will tell Avrinjù as much. Unless … you know Spock a lot better than me. Would prefer him to …'

'No!' The answer came so fast, T'Kray was taken aback.

'That was a pretty fierce reaction.' Her eyes went wide as she gave voice to an impossibility. 'Have you been possessed by something or forced into a meld once?' The doctor laughed, but there was no humour in it.

'Once? Are you kidding?' T'Kray swallowed.

'Did Spock …' McCoy shook his head before she finished speaking.

'No. Not this one. Kind of strange … mirror universe version of him. And then his brother in this universe, although that was a different sort of meld. But I sure didn't consent. Oh, and before either I was controlled by a computer for a short time.' He stared at the altar. 'Sometimes I wonder if I'm so weak that it always happens to me.' T'Kray smiled.

'You are not weak. A forced meld has the potential to turn someone who cannot shield himself into a vegetable. I understand you.'

'What I don't get is why I never felt … I don't know, invaded by Spock's katra. I was clearly controlled by it, and that was horrible, but it never made me feel my mind is worthless anyway.'

'Of course not. Spock chose you. His katra, of course, knew that and therefore revered you as its keeper.' Her expression was warm and gentle. 'But still. Each time someone touched your mind after you were forced for the first time, they did more damage. Imagine fabric already ripped at the edge. Every time you worry it, the tear deepens. If you allow me, I will once again initiate contact with your mind, but only as much as the first time before the ritual. I promise you that I will not even attempt to go deeper. I will very simply ask you if you are on our side. And I will tell Avrinjù that as a human, you will not be able to lie. I am very sorry I have to do this at all.'

'I didn't think you'd do it for the hell of it.'

'Doctor McCoy, I can attempt to heal what has been done to you.' McCoy shook his head.

'No … I mean, no offence but … I've had it with these things. This is important, and I get that. I also trust you not to push. But I can't … I just can't let you or anyone deeper. Not ever. I don't think. I'm sorry.' T'Kray smiled vaguely.

'Don't be. I understand.'

ϡ

When Bones rejoined them he looked more lost and defeated than Jim had ever seen him. Spock saw it too, because he stopped talking in mid-sentence and stared at the approaching doctor. 'What happened?' Jim asked. Bones swallowed.

'I … She's got her answer. You know, what you've got there is so beautiful. Don't listen to what I said before. This is perfect for you. You belong together, always have.'

'Did you ask her to help you, Leonard?' Bones looked at the Vulcan and shook his head. He caught Jim frowning.

'Do you remember the mirror universe?'

'Of course, but what has that got to do with us, here and now?' Blue eyes, suddenly haunted, met worried hazel ones.

'The mirror version of Spock raped my mind. What … contact I had with other minds after that didn't help me recover. Spock told me years ago that he'd noticed there was something that needed tending to. I refused. I refused and now I don't believe it's even still possible.'

'If that isn't a problem unless someone tries another mind-meld on you, why would it be necessary?' Bones smiled at Jim, but it looked forced.

'Let's try problem prevention, eh? Never mind that, though, she got what she needed.' Spock eyed Bones with scientific interest.

'I do not believe it is impossible to undo the damage.' Bones swallowed.

'I will never let anyone touch my mind again.' Spock's lips tightened slightly, but he didn't reply. 'I came here for a reason. Minian spilled some information. Apparently, there will be a kind of public victory party in the city a few days from now. Minian's idea was to go and shoot that leader-type. Arvenig.'

'Whoa, slow down. Isn't Minian a traitor?'

'Well, we're not taking what he says at face value, if that's your question. T'Kray's telling her High Priestess and she'll ask Charika to verify. Anyway, the plan seems to be that you and T'Kray go there, kill him, and run.'

'And then what? His second in command will step up.'

'She hopes there'll be enough rivalry amongst the officers to cause an interregnum. During that time, we have to do everything to make sure the plan to drain the air out of the atmosphere can never be completed.'

'That makes sense. At least some.'

'Why does Jim go and not I?'

'Because T'Kray said so? Really, I don't know. And I don't care. I'm asking you both to refuse. This is suicide.'

'Did you try and talk her out of it?' Bones smiled wearily. Jim watched the High Priestess and T'Kray approach at a leisurely pace. Bones, with his back to them, didn't see them.

'I tried. Yes. Stubborn Vulcan. Anyway, if she has it her way, it'll be just the two of you.'

'Three.' Bones jumped at the voice in his back. 'I am coming as well. James, are you willing to come?'

'Is there really a choice?' Jim asked. He found the idea of the ancient Vainal joining them rather disconcerting. It certainly explained why T'Kray had her arms folded and pointedly avoided Avrinjù's eye.

'Maybe.' It wasn't hard to tell that with whatever solution the Vainal had come up with, T'Kray didn't agree. Her face showed almost nothing, but to a man who had spent so much time with a Vulcan, the ever so slight frown wasn't hard to identify. 'I do not wish to kill Arvenig.' When T'Kray answered, her voice had the strained tone of a long-suffering matron telling her charges the same thing for the umpteenth time.

'Avrinjù, we agreed from the start that murdering the entire human population wasn't even something to consider. But Arvenig …'

'Was raised with the lot of them!' the High Priestess interrupted sharply. 'I shall join you when you go to that … celebration. I wish to attempt negotiating with Arvenig. If that does not work, we shall bring him here.'

'I understand your misgivings, as does T'Kray, no doubt,' Spock entered the conversation. 'Our people do not believe in unnecessary bloodshed. However, I do wonder what solution you have in mind. I cannot seem to conceive of one without lengthier consideration.'

'I wish to bring him here. I wish to show him how wrong he is in his views.'

'With all due respect, that is not going to work, Avrinjù. The man has made it his lifelong goal to destroy your kind. Talking sense to him will not change his mind.'

'We shall see.' The High Priestess turned her back on them. 'I wish you to devise a plan for the three of us to isolate Arvenig and bring him here. Safely.' She halted. 'This is not a request, T'Kray. I have allowed you much, but this is something I cannot sanction.'

* * *

_((For the sake of the timeline: McCoy was possessed by Landru in Return of the Archons, so much so that Spock couldn't even find him in there unless my memory is flawed there. Next is __Mirror Mirror – merely thinking of the look on his face makes me want to run to his aid. Then Spectre of the Gun where he agrees. Well, not like he's got a choice, and he looks thoroughly unhappy. Then we get to the katra business, then to Sybok in The Final Frontier. I don't think I missed anything. I mean, dear me. Poor man. - Supplement: I did indeed forget one instance: Sylvia in Catspaw. Thanks to BIMM for reminding me._

_Due to the fact that the above only struck me halfway through writing, this chapter has gone through serious editing. Meaning, there's very little the way it was at first. I am very certain I've missed … something. It's 1 o'clock in the morning here now, and I am knackered and don't want to wait. So if you find something amiss, let me know.))_


	16. Are Lightning and Thunder Extinguished

_((The music I would send you to hear for this is Vivaldi's concerto for diverse instruments RV 558. If you can find it, I recommend the recording by the marvellous Leonard Bernstein, who corrected my misconception that only the Italian can play Vivaldi right. If you don't find that one, take the one of Il Giardino Armonico, it's on youtube._

_The chapter heading is from Bach's (yeah, I know) St. Matthew's Passion. It should have been_ Are Lightning and Thunder Extinguished in the Clouds_, but that's too long it seems._

_Somehow, while proof-reading, I noticed that in my head Arvenig has the voice of Joseph Morgan. If, like myself, you have no idea who that is, he's Klaus in Vampire Diaries. I admit I had to look up the name – the only one I know by heart is Ian Somerhalder. I digress. *wipes away drool*))_

* * *

The town square was overcrowded. What looked like the entire human population of Dainam was crammed into one space, watching. And in the middle of them, Jim with T'Kray at his side. Avrinjù had somehow managed to drift further to the front. To Jim and T'Kray's relief, she wasn't the only Vainal in the square. She had donned slaves' attire so she should blend in nicely. Jim only hoped she would remain silent long enough to give T'Kray or him a clear shot. As soon as Avrinjù had managed to move out of earshot – in the constant babble that wasn't far away – T'Kray had told him she had no intention to wait until the old woman could talk to Arvenig. She had also said that it would be the first time she took a life, but that she really saw no other way. Jim had to agree. Talking couldn't be a good idea. Somehow he doubted anyone's mind here could still be changed. They had kept their beliefs far too long for that.

For the moment, Jim's primary concern was the security. There were armed men and women at various exits of the square, but not everywhere. A pair they had passed directly had been clearly drunk. Obviously, no-one expected any real threat. So when Arvenig stepped onto the platform from which he would deliver his speech, he felt their chances to get out were at least not non-existent. First, they had to get to a place at the edge of the crowd, however, and make sure they could take the High Priestess with them.

Although Jim hadn't given much thought to what Arvenig looked like, what he saw was certainly nothing he could ever have expected. The leader, the ruthless tyrant, was little more than a boy. He looked at T'Kray, tried to read her face, and failed. 'Did you know this is him?' he asked.

'I know the face of my enemy.' He shook his head.

'He's … what? Eighteen? Are we really going to execute half a child?'

'He is approximately nineteen years and six months old. He succeeded his father five years ago and is more brutal and ruthless. This child has condemned test subjects to death, has personally executed innumerable people, has, all by himself, dreamt up and developed the process they use to destroy the remaining Vainal all in one go.'

'I get that, but …' He fell silent, along with the rest of the people, when Arvenig started to speak. The young man was tall and gangling, his eyes grey and large. But there was something a little odd about him. Cautiously, Jim and T'Kray started to manoeuvre towards Avrinjù. Evaluating her position, Jim noticed they had a clear path out and away from that point. It was as good a place as any.

'My people. The test was successful. The rebellion, I was informed, is no more.' The cheers erupting made Jim's hackles rise. This was dangerous. Very much. 'Soon, all the Vainal, save a few that I see gathered here, will be gone. Those who have chosen life in their natural position under our dominion will serve until their deaths. Measures will be taken that when they are gone, no further Vainal will come to be. See how their mental superiority looks now?' He gave a bark of a laugh, and the town square erupted in transports of joy.

'I'll go somewhere and vomit, if you'll excuse me,' Jim said. T'Kray merely shook her head.

'Now … Preparations need to be made. Then, for two weeks, we will poison the air. For us, it will be possible to move, but dangerous. I need to stress the importance to stock up on food and water for that time. You, my people, will be safe. And then, when the air is clean again, we will claim this world for good. The curses of the Vainal will lift and there will be no more disease, nor more disfigurement. We will be free, at last.'

'Don't be fooled, James, he doesn't believe what he is saying. He understands perfectly well why so many humans are far from healthy, and he knows there is no poison.'

'He doesn't have any facial expression, T'Kray. Not at all. When he talks about victory his face and tone are the same as when he speaks of safety and of the threat he pretends the Vainal are.' She cocked her head.

'Indeed. For a human, this is highly irregular.' She placed her hand on her weapon. 'We can contemplate that when we're done. You were reluctant, James. Are you going to try and stop me?' Jim eyed the young man with the cold face and realised that she was probably right – and even if someone could do something to … help him understand, it wasn't possible for them. Not here, not alone, not with that sword of Damocles above them.

'I won't.'

ϡ

Leonard heard the soft knock on the door to the infirmary and rubbed his eyes, tired from reading. He had used a lot of his time for studying recently. At first he had told himself it was just to spend the time somehow, but he knew deep down he was preparing for his return to Starfleet. He already knew what he was going to do and how. He was certain Spock would follow his lead. He hadn't asked him yet, but he didn't need to. Jim couldn't know this because he would try and talk them out of it. Not that Leonard thought he might be successful, but he'd rather create a fait accompli. He knew for a fact that Jim spent his spare time similarly: checking computer banks for what had changed in his absence. Technologically, it was a lot. Leadership qualifications were pretty much the same, as were the laws and the rules apart from minor changes like more leniency towards personal relationships – as long as they weren't exploitative – and the fact that every spaceship had its share of civilians since Starfleet no longer ripped families apart if at all possible. 'Yes,' he called. The door revealed Spock, not entirely surprisingly. 'Aren't you helping Charika?'

'He is perfectly able to handle the Tower alone. If he should require assistance, he can contact me.' The man had recovered beautifully. It was close to a miracle, considering the mess he had been when they had brought him in. He still reported to Leonard regularly, but there were no signs of infection so far, and after this time, he highly doubted they would still come. His glaring hatred towards Minian had turned into cool revulsion by now, so the guards before the traitor's cell were merely there to keep him in. Before that, they had also been instructed to keep anyone else, and Charika in particular after his tirade, out.

'Did you need anything, Spock? Given that I always had to drag you down to sickbay on our missions, I'm worried when I see you come in here voluntarily.' Spock settled in a chair with his hands folded.

'I merely came to ask you if you needed assistance. It seems to be a quiet day, however.' Leonard nodded.

'And I'm glad. Considering how the last trip to the city ended, I wonder what I'll have to do when they come back.' He swallowed. 'I'm so worried, Spock, I can't even tell you.'

'Their situation is precarious. However, we both know that Jim would not have it any other way.' He looked up at Leonard. 'I must admit that I experience a sensation of uncertainty as well. There is nothing in the Tower with which to distract myself. I hoped here, there would be something to do.'

'You know … I've been thinking. There is something.' Leonard held his Relocator to the computer. 'Lock to Leonard, security level four.' He turned back to Spock, who raised an eyebrow at him. 'I would ask you to …' He took a deep breath. 'Help me, Spock.'

'I understand.' Spock's brow furrowed ever so slightly. 'Might I enquire what changed your mind?' Leonard sighed and let himself fall into a chair.

'Well, closing my eyes and pretending what I can't see isn't there won't save me. I meant what I said, I don't intend to ever let anyone touch my mind again. But we both know there'll come the moment where it happens. What are the chances of me going loopy then?'

'That is hard to estimate. It could have happened at any occasion after the first violation.'

'Well, I like my sanity. I've been playing with fire.'

'There is a residual risk even in this, Leonard. I am familiar with your mind, which will help. If you let me begin to work with you and try to push me out of the meld later, it could damage you severely, possibly beyond healing.' Leonard swallowed.

'In that case I'll make sure I won't push you out.'

'Very well. Is there anything that can relax your mind?'

'A bottle of Saurian Brandy. Lacking that, I'll say music.'

'Choose what you like. Something calm, I would suggest.' Leonard smiled.

'Will do.'

ϡ

'Arvenig!' The call of the High Priestess came when his speech was apparently over, before the audience could start its unanimous cheering. 'Arvenig, heed me!' The young man's eyes fixed her. And for the first time, something akin to humour flickered across his face.

'A Vainal speaks to me. Do you wish to thank me for allowing you to live?'

'This isn't good,' T'Kray said in an undertone. Jim couldn't agree more.

'No. I don't like it either.'

'I wish to ask you what my people have ever done to you. I wish for you to consider a peace with us. We mean you no harm.'

'You are insolent, slave. Do you intend to negotiate with me? Sit down together, your people and mine, and find a way for coexistence?' His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but Avrinjù seemed oblivious.

'Yes, Arvenig. This is exactly what I ask you. Speak with us! There must be some way.' Jim cursed under his breath.

'The Vainal aren't big on irony, are they?' T'Kray swallowed.

'They aren't big on anything that isn't the bald truth.' Arvenig's eyes narrowed.

'Do you hear that, my people?' He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. Kneeling, he spoke to Avrinjù in a quiet voice before offering his hand. He hoisted her up to the platform effortlessly. 'Do you see this brave slave, suggesting we find a common ground?' His smile grew ugly. 'But then, she is not a slave. You see, Vainal, we do not feed our slaves beyond their usefulness. You are old and frail and no-one would keep you around. I heard you are dead, but I have a feeling you are the one that stirs unrest among your race. The mother of the Vainal. The figurehead of the twisted religion that practices witchcraft only in order to destroy us.' His voice had risen constantly, now he shouted. 'Look at her. Look at the face of our enemy. And break it.' Grabbing her, Arvenig bodily vaulted the High Priestess into the crowd, too far from Jim and T'Kray to come to her aid. They could only watch her founder in a sea of bodies.

ϡ

Leonard focussed on the music, letting the levity of it calm him, soothe him as much as possible. Spock's fingers were resting on his face and his eyes closed, but if the Vulcan was doing anything, he didn't notice it. He assumed he was making sure he was calm before he started. Leonard wasn't certain he was ever going to be much calmer. He was going to say as much when he felt the presence of the other man's mind. If he hadn't been waiting for it, he thought he would never have noticed the feather-light touch, like a willow leaf landing on his head. He remained settled.

_Very good, Leonard. I will not harm you._ He smiled vaguely.

_I know._

_I will need to find what is ailing you._

_You sound like Sybok._ He felt slight indignation and flushed. _I'm sorry. That was very tactless._

_Sometimes you cannot control what you say, Doctor. I do not expect you to censor your thoughts. _For a moment Leonard wondered if Spock was doing this on purpose: starting to banter as if they were just talking, offering a kind of familiar ground. He very likely was.

_It's all right, you can … I don't know. Do whatever you must do._ The sensation wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Somehow he had feared it would be like the forced meld with that horrible imitation of his friend, but he should have known better. He had, after all, had contact with the real Spock's mind.

_What you think about was very superficial and hardly a meld. It was little more than a suggestion, shallower than this. But you do have very intimate knowledge of my mind, of who I am._That was true.

_Now we're talking katra again. Although that nearly drove me insane, it was the least unpleasant of all telepathic … things … I've had going on._Spock pushed, but only very slightly. Leonard prepared for the real thing.

_You should cease to talk. Relax, concentrate on what you feel and hear. Guide me. You know best what help you need. This is not a full mind meld yet, Leonard. It needs to be if I am to achieve anything. You will not be yourself but a part of me and vice versa. Do not fear it and do not fight it._Slowly, Leonard was getting slightly impatient.

_I know the drill, Spock. My mind to your mind, we're one and all that. Go ahead, do it already._What he read in return was clearly amusement.

_Leonard, if you do not quit talking I shall ask you for the real reason why you want my help. And your mind will answer._ Leonard did the mental equivalent to gaping, but only for a moment. The transition was seamless. He lost himself completely in the union, and slowly, very slowly, his fear of it drained away little by little. Only when he felt Spock retreating and found a sense of self again, he realised that a noise resembling an off-key basso continuo was gone.

'Leonard. Are you quite all right?' A languid smile tugged at his lips.

'I … yes. I never noticed … I mean, I didn't feel wrong.'

'It is not unnatural to get used to physical pain in order to function. This was no different.' Leonard ran a hand through his hair.

'I don't know how I can ever thank you.' Spock started to answer, then closed his mouth, his eyes wide. 'Spock?' The Vulcan shut his eyes, his features taut with concentration. Leonard waited for what he thought was a sufficiently long time. 'Talk to me!' Spock's face was impassive when he spoke.

'Something just happened. I do not know what, but it cannot be good.'

ϡ

'T'Kray!' The Vulcan's face had turned into an expressionless mask. For a moment Jim had thought she would just give up or shoot, but he was sorely mistaken. She had started slowly, moving forward and towards the tribune. When he first called her name, however, she had darted forward, reaching the platform before Jim. Drawing his gun, he checked if any guards had noticed the commotion, but apparently, they hadn't. The Vulcan bounded up onto the platform and grabbed the frozen young man, pulling him close. Voices were clamouring around him, but so far no-one moved. Small wonder. Irregular actions were punished most severely, so no-one was prepared to stick out.

Jim scrambled up onto the platform. He couldn't understand what T'Kray was hissing at the man through her teeth, and apparently, neither could he.

'You're dead woman,' he told her, still fearless if a little flustered.

'Incorrect. You are dead.' Almost gently, she placed both hands in his neck. There was an unmistakable snapping sound.

'Let's get out of here,' Jim said quietly, watching her lower the body of the tyrant. 'Move!' The Vulcan didn't listen. She turned to the crowd that was slowly getting to its collective sense, registering just what she had done. 'She's gone, T'Kray!'

'No.' Lost for another solution, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him.

'T'Kray! Snap out of it! Avrinjù's dead, and unless we run now, so are we.' Without waiting for an answer, he steered her to the other side of the platform and away from the mob that was starting to follow them. Jim had learned that masses of people moved like fluids. Maybe that helped them. Casting about for a way off the town square, he noticed guards moving in. He released the safety catch on the gun, prepared to fire if he had to.

The obvious exit was a short alley. The next one, a little further away, went around a corner. It felt like the better option. T'Kray had broken free from his grasp but was thankfully still running with him. She could outpace him easily if she wanted to. 'Go, get to safety.' She merely looked at him and remained at his side.

He heard the bellow of a gun behind him, but the shooter was apparently unused to a moving target. The bullet ricocheted off a wall with the typical wailing sound. They darted into the narrow passage together and around the corner into another, smaller square. 'Where, T'Kray?' The Vulcan pointed at a side street across the entirety of the open space.

'Through there, then along the town centre and back to the rail.' They never reached the side street. Four men and two women stepped in front of them, all pointing weapons at them. Jim skidded to a halt and bent forward, hands resting on his knees. And he smiled.

ϡ

Leonard kept staring at Spock but remained silent. It was probably the most difficult thing he had ever done. But the Vulcan had demanded silence, and Leonard knew he wouldn't do that if he didn't have a reason. That the vague hints sent his stomach reeling didn't matter at the moment. Finally, Spock stirred. Questions were burning on Leonard's lips, but he kept his mouth shut, merely staring at his friend, silently pleading with him to say that all was well.

'Avrinjù is dead. So is Arvenig.' Spock's voice was rough and deeper even than usually. 'T'Kray apparently performed tal-shaya.'

'Tal... what?'

'A method of execution. She broke his neck.' Leonard's eyes went wide.

'Oh no. I hoped it wouldn't be her to do the actual killing.' He swallowed. 'A small part of me hoped Avrinjù's plan would work.'

'It was an attempt.'

'Are they safe, Spock?'

'Yes. They are unharmed and on their way here, and it would appear that they bring visitors. I am not certain about that part, however, since Jim was considerably calmer at the end and I could not read him as well.'

'Just so I understand. You did what you think is unsafe and used that link to speak to him.' Spock nodded curtly.

'Until now I wondered if what I want to do is wise. When I noticed Jim reaching out to my mind, I had the sudden revelation that denying what I feel would not only be highly illogical, but also doing him a disservice.' Leonard snorted.

'Yeah. I'm sure it was a very well thought-out, entirely logical decision.' Spock raised an obligatory eyebrow.

'Why, thank you Doctor McCoy.' Leonard couldn't help himself. The release from the shadow weighing on his mind, the fact that despite everything Jim and T'Kray had somehow managed to get to safety, and the mannerisms he and Spock fell into so easily were an emotional cocktail that broke his composure. For the first time in a very long time he laughed sincerely, out of the unadulterated joy of being alive and well.

* * *

___((This is drawing to a close. And there will be a sequel, but I'm not sure when. I have to do some research for that and catalogue my thoughts. That's the bad thing about this here, you can't go back. I usually write into the blue, so posting on this site is always an exercise for me. I have a separate file with nine pages of notes, things to remember, and a sort of outline for the story. It grew with this text and contains potential chapter headings, a plot outline, and a detailed description of how an SEM works and notes on cell structure. And I never got round to use either. I mean, I know exactly why the cells died, as does McCoy, but it was never said. Alas.))_

_EDIT: I have, in the meantime, successfully managed to pretend to the www that I am in the US. That means I'll finally get to watch TAS, which so far proved impossible. I mean there's a German dubbed version, but that's nowhere near serious enough. I will finish this here before I'm done watching that, but I won't continue earlier. I need to do some other research too. Dear me._


	17. See, I Stand Before the Door and Knock

_((Time to wrap this up!_

_Chapter heading is from a cantata called 'Now come, saviour of the gentiles' (BWV 61) (Obsessed? Who, me?)_

_If one of you should feel the need to find a slow, painful way for me to die – please refrain. There is a note for you at the end of the chapter. Not an apology, because I don't feel the need to justify myself, just a glimpse into my head.))_

* * *

The young woman, Ensign Maarloeve, thumped her fist against what had to be a communicator on her chest. Jim sighed inwardly. He had much to learn indeed.

'Will I ever catch up, Spock?'

'Given your level of intelligence, I should estimate you will know all you need within a year.'

'A year? The entire world has changed.'

'That would be a severe overst...'

'Shut up, both of you,' Bones growled. 'I'm trying to eavesdrop here.' T'Kray had vanished somewhere after delivering him as well to the new arrivals. They wore unmistakable Starfleet uniforms, though they looked different.

'Understood, Captain.' Maarloeve looked at all of them and swallowed. She was clearly nervous. 'We ran the recordings of your voices through our computers. It appears …' She took a deep breath, her voice shaking a bit when she continued. 'It appears that you are indeed … I am so sorry! I …'

'We're not offended,' Jim said quickly. 'We know how it sounds.'

'The other Vulcan seems to be in our records, too. She was announced dead. As were you. I believed you were deceased as well, Admiral.' Jim smiled.

'I'm no longer an Admiral. I'm not sure if I'm anything, seeing how I don't officially exist.'

'She means me.' Jim stared at Bones.

'You're an Admiral? You never said that!'

'Neither here nor there. I am certainly not deceased.' He shook his head. 'I am retired. Not quite the same thing. And we'll have to talk about all that anyway.' The ensign looked shocked.

'To Starfleet command, Ensign Maarloeve, don't worry. If you don't mind, can we please have privacy?' She hesitated for a moment.

'Look, we are who we say, you worked that out. Are we somehow prisoners?' She stared at Bones.

'N...no, Admiral.' She all but fled the room.

'So, Admiral, what are we going to do now? It seems we'll have to decide.'

'Well, my decision depends largely on you, Jim.'

'I'll … What else, Bones. Where else can you see me?' Bones smiled.

'True. You are best on the bridge. Since we're not family, and since you cannot conscript someone of higher rank, there's only one thing I can do. And I never meant to tell you this, nor am I going to be dissuaded. I'll ask for a reduction of my rank.'

'Are you drunk?' Bones glared at Jim.

'No, I am perfectly sober, thank you very much. But I don't want to rot somewhere lightyears away from my friends because I'm an Admiral now and cannot possibly serve on a starship.' He got to his feet and started pacing. 'Damn it, this is one of the reason why all this frightened the hell out of me. You two see possibilities. I see isolation. I don't want that!' Jim shook his head. He rose and stalled the doctor, putting his hands on his shoulders.

'Bones! Calm down. I just want you to think this through.'

'I have, Jim, trust me. When have you ever seen me making harsh decisions I regretted?' He waited for a full second. 'See? Never.'

'Yonada.'

'I thought I was dying. That hardly counts.'

'Gentlemen.' They both looked at Spock. 'I find your decision flawlessly logical, Doctor. I also believe it possible your request will be granted. However, you will not be able to reverse it.'

'I am aware of that.' The doctor's voice was solemn. 'I know all this. What will you do?'

'I have come up with the same idea.'

'You're both mental.'

'Just inflexible. Never mind that now. Jim, do you remember what I asked of you before our first five year mission?' Jim blew out his cheeks.

'It's been a while, Bones. Help me out.'

'I wanted a psychologist on my medical team.'

'Ah, yes. I never found one you were happy with.'

'That's because you … found psychiatrists. With any luck we'll have a volunteer. T'Kray hinted she may want to serve in Starfleet.' Jim smiled.

'Well, I have nothing to say against her. But she has some catching up to do as well, I should think.'

'I am not certain, Jim,' Spock said. 'She had all the knowledge of Starfleet at her hands, and I do not think she let herself fall behind on current information. What I would recommend for all of us is to take a foreign rank evaluation.'

'A what?' Bones's face had lit up at this.

'Perfect, Spock. When they started accepting people from all sorts of other places, they introduced this test. It's meant to evaluate someone according to the rank they have at wherever they came from. They tell you precisely where you need to catch up. And more often than not they let you do that on a space station or something, and after that … year or whatever that was you're evaluated by the commodore or so in charge. Now that would be hilarious.'

'What are the chances of all of us ending up in the same place?'

'Fairly good. Not all space stations allow this. Actually there are only a few, and usually it depends on the time of your application where you're sent. This doesn't happen all that frequently.'

'The one that will take the applicants of the next half year is stationed in orbit over Mainau. It is a research station, mostly.' Jim beamed at the Vulcan.

'Why, aren't you an eternal source of knowledge.' Bones chuckled at them and approached the door.

'You know what? I'll leave you to your … your … whatever. Just lock the door.'

'Why would we lock ourselves in, Captain?' Spock asked when Bones had left them. Jim cleared his throat.

'He meant … if we were to engage in a …' He faltered, his face was suddenly burning.

'Given your incoherence I believe I know what you are trying to say.'

'So what now?'

'Well, after our contact, removing the link would be more difficult. In case T'Kray does not wish to leave, we should approach her soon. However, I do not think this is what either of us wants.' Jim smiled and approached. He looked at his Vulcan, watching him closely. After only a moment of hesitation, he reached out and cupped his cheek, his thumb caressing him lightly. Spock's eyes fluttered shut.

'I cannot agree more.'

ϡ

There was no use asking oneself why the Starfleet people couldn't have arrived sooner or revealed themselves earlier. There was no use cursing oneself for losing control. There was no use clinging to a small, sweet hope, little more than a cautious mind game, an exploration of a very tentative maybe, after that possibility had been effectively destroyed with but one sentence.

Apparently, the vessel that had brought Doctor McCoy and Spock had realised something had gone terribly wrong while transporting them down. They had then found the shield in place, covering a large enough radius to make it very difficult to reach the centre. So the ship had left again and gone to the nearest starbase to pick up people who knew how to break a shield like that and to inform Starfleet command it was about time someone took care of Dainam. Losing an ambassador and a retired Admiral didn't look too god, after all. So when they returned, they worked on how to get through the shield and were so concerned with their theoretical attempts to disable the invisible wall without destroying the entire city in the process they failed to notice the shield was actually no longer there. Eventually they had caught and translated T'Kray's distress signal, and only then did they look again, finding the barrier gone.

T'Kray's path lay clear before her. Do what she had to do in the Alms, find a successor for Avrinjù, and then … help. Help this planet to develop the way it should. When that was done, in a few decades, maybe she would finally leave.

The altar room was lit from the sun shining in through the window. T'Kray locked the door behind her and stepped up to the altar. Almost reverently, she ran her fingers over the smooth wood. She stepped to a wall and whispered to it, whispered words the High Priestess had told her. Words even Avrinjù hadn't understood, because they were in a language long forgotten. A formerly invisibly door opened, leading into a small cubicle.

The dancing light in the room filled her soul with peace. It emanated from the walls themselves, panelled with the same wood the altar was made of. Only here, cultures of this bacteria still grew. The same bacteria that was used for the ritual. This was the last cultivated stock that remained after the humans had destroyed most of it, and aside from her no-one knew how to perform it. Just this once, the humans had done the right thing, albeit unwittingly. The side effects were too severe, too horrible, for this to continue. T'Kray sighed. She placed a small device she had ordered from Charika on the ground, flipped a switch, and stepped outside, closing the door. The small explosion could be felt, but not too strongly. The room was fireproof, so no damage would be done to the rest of the building. Her work here was done.

Outside she found McCoy, pacing the premises. He noticed her and made a beeline for her. 'Saying goodbye to the place, T'Kray?' Her face remained impassive.

'I destroyed the bacteria. For the ritual.'

'Good. It seems unfair, but … I guess it was necessary.' T'Kray nodded.

'I shall stay here, Doctor McCoy. I know Dainam and the Vainal best. I am needed here.' If McCoy had expected something else, he didn't show it.

'Well. I guess that's true. I mean, knowing you can leave if you wish to makes it easier to choose to stay.'

'Indeed. I have things to do, Doctor, and so do you, no doubt. We will say our farewells later.' She had reached the entrance to the tower when she heard his voice again.

'Imagine you were needed somewhere else, too. What then?'

'What?'

'What would someone have to do to sway you? What dire need would a person have to be in to make you say, hell with it, I'm off. I'll leave this place to itself or whoever cares to look after it and live my life, enjoy all it has to offer. There's someone that needs me more than the Vainal, who are now in the very good hands of the Federation.' Usually human expressions were easy to decipher, especially in a man who wore his heart on his sleeve like McCoy. Right now, there was something that looked like a smile on his face, but it felt wrong.

'It doesn't only depend on what that hypothetical person needs, Doctor. I need things too, things that are non-negotiable. I would wonder at anyone who would be so bold to even ask me to forego my very nature to fulfil their needs.' He shook his head.

'That wouldn't be just bold, it would be mean. Let's use plain language here, shall we? I ask you to come with us. I need an actual psychologist. As a staff member, mind you.'

'I am by no means the only one alive.' The smile on McCoy's face became more genuine.

'No. But you're the one I hope will come.'

'That isn't the real reason, and you know it. Were I human, I would be flattered and agree. We would dance this dance for a while until you tire of me and move on.' McCoy pressed his lips together and raised his hands.

'Because it is completely inconceivable that a human is able to feel deeply enough for a Vulcan? What about Jim? Do you think he'll … tire?'

'He knows Spock a little while longer than you know me.'

'Well, I've known Jim almost my entire life, and I've never seen him stick with anyone longer than three weeks. I still believe him in this. And I'm not saying you should drop everything you're holding and jump me.' He took a step backwards. 'Look, forget it. I just thought … I had the impression that there might be the possibility for … us to find a … you know. If I was wrong, I apologise. I hope you're not mad at me for asking.'

'I'm not.' T'Kray smiled. 'I am flattered, and the thought has occurred to me as well. But just the physical can never be enough for me. I do not work that way. It is your mind that intrigues me, what I felt of it. I am drawn to that, to who you are, to your soul. And I can never feel that the way I need to. You would get all you require. And I would starve.'

'Is that why you say no? If so … I sound like a frightened virgin now, but here it is. I asked Spock to help me with my affliction, and he did. I know I'll need time to allow … anything like a meld. But I'm certain … that if you're gentle I can open to you. And as long as I can't do that, I would never ever push you to do something … physical, as you put it.'

'Do you know where meld points are?' McCoy tilted his head.

'Not precisely, but on the face somewhere. I never paid that much attention.'

'They're not the only ones. There are more. Those on the head offer the easiest entrance for a deep meld. Give me your hand.' He looked confused but obliged without hesitation. Her skin was slightly cooler than his, her fingers soft. His heart was racing at the touch. Gently, she formed his hand into a loose fist before opening just the middle- and forefinger. He had seen that with Sarek and Amanda, he realised. Mirroring the gesture, T'Kray touched the tips of her own fingers to the back of his. And like a whisper, he felt her mind. It wasn't a meld, not even close to. It was a touch as innocent as that of their hands, and as unobtrusive. 'In this, I can feel if you are sincere. I could also feel if you were afraid. You aren't. Nervous, yes, maybe even a little anxious, but that is all.' She looked down at her feet, then met his eyes. 'I think you have found yourself a psychologist. I will tell Charika that he is in charge now.'

'Take your time. No-one's in a rush here, it seems. They're still sorting out the humans, and till they're done with that, this ships isn't going anywhere.'

'Incidentally, how did they take that long?' Leonard grinned, his eyes sparkling with joy.

'Well, you dispatched a Vulcan distress call.'

'It takes a Federation starship with all its computers that long to translate Vulcan?' Mischief flared in the Doctor's eyes.

'Well, the only Vulcan on the ship was here with us. And the computers … Ah well, they messed this up on all levels.'

'Here's something for you to work on, then: Shaya tonat, Lenkam.'

* * *

___((First things first: This will be continued. And I will probably offer a translation for what she said at the end. Unless I forget._

_A short aside on Vulcan hands. I know fanon keeps saying how they're so very sensitive. Well, let's take a look at that, using our demonstration model we see all the time._

_Spock can be extremely gentle. He demonstrates that on a few occasions, the most prominent is maybe The Empath. Now I wouldn't be fooled by that. In the Man Trap, This Side of Paradise, Amok Time, and what not, we see that this isn't always the case. Now if his hands are so overly sensitive, how is it he can give people and things (like a computer) a good bashing without considerable discomfort? I don't think so._

_This finger-kiss-thing was always a mind thing to me. They are touch telepaths after all. Obviously, the meld points are what you use for a true mind meld. Fine. A casual touch, in my head-canon, can convey emotions, everything on the surface, an impression, but nothing more. And this finger-touch is something in between, allowing a more controlled exchange, but also merely on the surface._

_Leo: I feel compelled to say this: T'Kray wasn't conceived as a means to an end. I am never that nice to my characters. _

_Originally, I had half a mind to have T'Kray cast an eye on Spock. The two knew each other and worked together quite intensely. I believe Vulcans make for very bad triangles, however, so I ditched that very soon. My plan after that was that she would be an advisor to Avrinjù's successor (who I knew would die), stay on Dainam, and keep helping them all establish some sort of peace. That I ditched because I found I'm not going to get the triumvirate into working order just to leave it there. For me, this is screaming to be continued, and I want her in a sequel. I can't dump her on that rotten planet, then. And if she leaves before everything is settled to her satisfaction, she needs a good reason to do so._

_To me, this is what would naturally happen if these people, as they are described here, were crammed into a common cause with no way out but to work very closely together. Bones was fascinated with T'Kray from the word go, and she with him. I don't think this is so inconceivable. I know it seems convenient, but since it really wasn't my intention I don't feel too worked up about that._

_I understand your misgivings and shared them at first. But here it is – not unexpectedly, I assume._

_And so, my friends, I cease – with a quote taken from Britten's Spring Symphony. Not Bach! Oh joy!))_


End file.
